2007-12-19

ten million dollar babe

on our world, there got towed, let us responsably! I know I gotta have all nooow and we have two ton bank held at finger threat but alm, only a mile for there the book sure hails. The creation number one...making us a new powerone power mad band on the side arter, the head, well above clouds, thilthy thornes, blandly staring, the kisss and the mullet mast, maid of envy...clear in Brooklyn...The maid in bow, me, solemn as a enark, kissing time, let us bind on www.kissonline...May my career cert pouded to the stones of our death. Burry, bury, buried the beetroots, made into a stone, long, scented curvacing white avocado, to defend our pright as all blinded dry by your decline rye and ants ready decks, houses, red necked through the for deliveries, door 4....Deck those, Musicz...the tomb, the cross, the guy hung by the balls. Veteran of The Psychic War+Me. The throne got so clotted without mine... Music in symetry on the dried baited the street, on 47th boulevard down the coackroaches ending hell on earth, thirty three hundred and twenty....some-one aboooove! A verse drop. Verse dropped, have your fun. Up our in Apple (byorasper) MCS.coms
Them...We, Terra 4 in side of 6. Tracked by you, she bends on flight with Eva in gematrian bizarre brazeiro of light and for light this time....Thyme, Rhine, Tiger....Love......Peace on earth. Amen. Love. Planet three linked.
Making the sour dough, nuts in carrots, thereby rolling mister Jones Live Handy, free to paint on prison, clone and sell but hole is smallened by the lightning, blue.....ballon me down. Hell, yell, hell..Bizarre flashes... the god-mother, forghtings in the cinema, the bloke is french in synepty, our rodents made a line blue, mi Fa Ti, my guitar and your credit and motte your sound kill fifteen, minus four, loss of contact, make a narcostudio in Campucheha, Papa, into false love letters, we are not in contact with the press but we have many faces and Mister made.....Like I believe in miracles. Low essence, hightened, tobacco and lime line, through a flowering gutter still, threaty of Blinds and Indiots Pretences, Most Death have started by shame, holaucuast was turned down. This is Jennifra and she peessed up the old alley 83 parliament...Democracy holds, in tear....