In a few weeks since I've been able to dance, with the move and looking
for a house in New York, et cetera. Looks like the search is over. Hello
So it feels like being a whore slut out of the gates dancing up to the
top of Boneville. To the blue fat Watertower, who was my obliging dance
The soundtrack was the new kid see UTI indicud, a downer and upper at
once. But for moments at a time in the dance. Laughed at by a fat
construction worker near St. Mary's. Laughing with his friend. I try to
see him as my beloved, he is laughing I knew.
The dance between self-conscious and superconscious. MetLife.
I like all the sudden how the translator turns all of this into a bill help you owe him oh text.
Give it upbeat and forget the words.