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twat i cunt hear you
i'm sorry i'm don't have as much tolerance as your coke habit does, and I know it might surprise you to find out that i fixed that leaky sink. so maybe that Chinese torture with the drip drip drip wont infest itself inside, and dwell, while your curtains rip rip rip. because i can see right through you, and i know your alterier motiefs, and hidden lifestyle, because christopher lowell redecorated this now dilapitated spawn haven for bad habits that invoke satan.
but one might have lost touch with reality, so when you come back, and find that its changed, dont be upset. you still have your cliche's to crochet in your dream woven reality broken drunk and spoken for lifestyle. libiations gone wild. syncopation in denial, while i accent the off-beat behavior changes, you lie about garnished wages, because your rock 'n roll pattern with the back beat you can lose it, and even though you tried to kick the habit, the bass-head drumming a white line, which so eloquently outlines your frail skinny body, got in the way, and the only things hurt by this, are the college funds for your dealers kids. (all because you couldnt keep it under control.. ha)
