Ordinary love hurts The hood is the soul I am the strangest in the crowd If I take off the crown and sell the last drop of inspiration I exclaim and disappear into the crowd in silence There is a voice that keeps saying: Come on, come on, dog, I will be there Love rots and turns bad because ordinary hurts me
Itchy pants and the first yarn sprouts on the carpet
A dumb piano and a cold potato pie that never fits in your mouth
The broken walls and the wheat connected to the brain in the dim light
I'm trying to keep piling up the word count for movie reviews
try! try! try!
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