Shake it like an earth that’s quaking to settle up the long division or make a new denomination to burn a little house together. It’s the same in all, severing like a hand that is wiggling a sign. No giving in at all to the guest at the feast in the belly of the beast. Gluttoning and punnish thinking. A sacrilicious oven diet is wolfing like it’s on a mission of chewing up the ammunition. It’s the same in all, sickening on a vine that is withering and dying in the way for all. We got a beast in the west and it’s pounding on its chest and singing: “Love is only something to hate.” Proven with an opening mouth. “Life is just for picketing in.” The beast, they got it salivating.
The West is winning. I’ll be waiting. Soul is gonna last forever. You got a thought and shouldn’t think it. So chew it up, the allegation. It’s insane is all. Picketing with a sign that used to be shocking. It ain’t working at all in the East, in the West, and in the belly of the beast. We got a leprechaun cooking it up. The Loch, they gotta Nessie we feed. Wolf has got a table to bus. Everybodys got what they need.
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