Sunday, August 23, 2015

Awe Ba List

The time is understood to be of standing keen, at that the personal is broadwaved to a theme.  Today the part of what is personal to personal for song, I put to the plates that time is of a long.  The word to express the voice of comfort after three years in the ground is more that the tears I sled to speak the value loud.  In the traveling of any foot worn sole is the fact of that journey at a beauty going on.

The dust perhaps is streaming lens should Viking boat be arrow host.  The tide on chart to ocean spar that bottom of the sea with wait so heavily I think.  From shores of sand to watching land a purr for waving seas, these are the hours of minuets that terrific life in flowers.

I breathe to know that minds work row and that is just a peace, the riddles are some poets tree that branched just love to hug me.  In that is dime to 'The Continue' not the religions dogma on a tail, there is no split from lief to death should the face be of the rice.  To have steeped a worlds denial, drank that drank that somehow somewhere there is a sky that does not match our personal climb is but a throw of bones to drifts with a bit of added dosed on demons from satins list :  Oh there is much on religious skits.  That is the bounty of the scale of the pew and nail, tribe that Nile river bends and dunk the skulls to snapping ribbed.  Roast the strain to Hell in vein and don't forget the change : a drop let to the coin in buckets to square that alter for its carriage and show up next week for sarige.

The widgets price at cost fern chore is not the apple or a garden snake to histories pick a stick.  No, the truth is worse for religions rat invited horror to scrabble core`d and served the apple sliced.  Pi with maze a mow choppers bough the arbor of a tree rung, the religions provided gates to torn and people grape the vine of strung.  Now at stern the ass of crowd did bend on to furst gone rug with tincture of the squinting.  The eyes did cheekie tears forget, the boots ran born to dig the spet while bolts put thunders lords to bed, a real sky hi authority to R.I.P. stones to the ever torture while language bunked the bankings lane, oh for the pow of PIP. 

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