My gall mom bladdered to the hopsital
when I was wee under-stanley.
There she got high
and they rendered unto a suture
one stone uv our ugly own.
You got one?
It wasn't cancer
that time.
It is now.
Some of these day
that stone
might be the ownly thing
my very nothing remembers
about B. Lou-Ease.
Got me?
Reel deep
Down ware
you dont dear
dare
to go..............
Here me am.
Prognosticating dread doom.
Me too wanna die
But still
always remember
mamma's nipple
and fishtank laughter.......
YOU GETTA LINE ANAL GETTA POLE
MEETA ON DOWN AT THE FISH-IN-HOLE
baby,
baby-o-mine.
Mamma,
your milk and songs
fill me with solid cynicism
in the guise of pluck.
It will never work out.
This is all a ridiculous tragedy.
Wallflower Cambridge England boogie
from here on out, babe...
From here on out,
and you know the reason why.
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