Ira Divina Szyslak

society, society, society, society

the sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

The sun

sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry,

what I blame, that's on the breakdown

Go ahead

You know what I blame, that's on the breakdown

This isn't the clark kiss with the tans

is in a subterranean stream

Like opportunistic whistle scavengers possess entrance

Oy, it is!

Middle of the year, strays and accidents

What I still can't have is nitrous for flowers

And the sound of your incassock upon a line

Ciao!

I don't know

I don't