Cut and paste. Hattet you verperlten established on the impotence of New Orleans? And a touch of tension, when the phone rings. This is forever. A touch of walking distance between the Satzbaufehler from yellow paved road in Austin. This is forever. From this ausgehauchten Texas-breathing, not a sign of relief, because you know this: This is forever! The twenty third March shooed in the wind, the music out. When you first get the best out of us can: it is that it's forever! Power no difference. In your letter alphabet missing. Seventeen, embalmed, and coffins are lowered into the weather, a penetrating, friskier rain.
Zupf busted harp on this, we were taken by the chords, set their hearts. Yes, this is forever.
(At freely after the drive: Napoleon solo)
Комментариев нет:
Отправить комментарий