Yeah You’re down there sharpened blanks from damaged guns You glow all day prolonged as well as still not strike the fucking the single Don’t wanna know what the little ill [sniper(?)] fuck considers fun Prob’ly chuck the party, served melted ice thickk cream over crumbs Just crumbs Just crumbs You prob’ly flicker over some-more donkey than any one we theory we similar to the ambience of shit upon your tongue No make the difference what we sequence the same thing will come A image of refried shit only lonesome in crumbs Just crumbs Just crumbs “I never had the life. we do not …