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aero gros m - poultry lyrics

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if he was schizophrenic, it wouldn’t take away from the fact that+

i am not crazy!

she’s spending summer binge watching her lucid dreams
loosening the losses to be luminous, not leprosy
lent a dripping cartridge to borrachos drinking chemistry
her measures are not menacing to any hands with feds to feed
best to be the mess she keeps lest testing tests her tea
rest dressed in dresses draped with dainty frills, a treasured treat
travel to the trove without a crest to crease comfort in extremity, a sighing shout in messaging misdirection bless the lesser set in breaths between sectioned deficit in moral leveraging, tread the seams slather last the lesson, now he’s pandering
bear the burden callously to cackle at the cows he keeps, overpowering
saddle latch atop the now police trapping what they cannot see
she asks “if they cannot see, what is therefore rightfully me?”
her pastries look like squid through blurry eyes of sakenomi
with no hands to print the workings, she just crumbles, feeling lonely
though the thief she kisses rides a broom through an estate
and breaks the gates into the interiors to get her cookies baked

[outro]
she emerges from the severed colossus in the scorch of mid july. her tongue is heated with the panic of exotic glimmer. the grey ooze congealed as thin skin shed above adapting scales, colourless as they seemed before. within her shrieks, a familiar chord
the song of battle tailored to dance to the rhythms of dread. the horizon’s beaming fire burns ahead
between the rocks jubilant in animalistic perspective, outward only pressuring scorch to multiply light a blinding product. cry to be bestowed with forgiveness as the glow below begins to fade, shrinking to beads dribbling in humid skies



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