leaving the pink guitar and orange amp and records behind in texas coming to him on a wing and a thousand prayers because it is my destiny to slobber that knob for peanut m&ms as foxes gobble flowers in mister macgregor's garden and clouds shaped like blood engorged penises wander horny over yeovil my titties pop out of my cheap pink slip and he threatens to pile drive me into oblivion trust me bitch life don't get no better than this
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