Look, I mean, let’s dig holes everywhere.
Under his house I’ve a hunch there’s a girl.
I am nasty, malty, full of red. My first few draws
on what comes out, what lies behind:
you become smaller, quieter, remove
the offensive, excessive parts. So
which is your life? I am destined to be
terrible. I definitely need police tape around me.
I am often these pairs. Genuineness only
thrives in Oz. I am ashamed to say that.
If we could only cut off our childhood places.

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