it'll begin to wear once every while
an again. the styles of our sins,
if its usual we arent and that's typical,
have you tickets yet,
you're coming to the show aren't you? appraisals arise in open embraces,
I'm sharpening the acts of preemptive fucking violence
heated without a.c. observances,
we'd all have strokes,
sulfuric sensual euphoria
its all a setting of the sating services,
sacred sunrises with the falling off
of her adorn.
fuck faking actual,
of carnal knowledges
we've learned well.
come with me
an I'll show you where
inhibitions fell.
no, no, we're leaving hell.
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