These smoke-infused clouds align themselves to pound the midnight air fair instrumentally
Three boys – uncountable bottles of beer to send this particular ego-show into ungodly overtime
2 a.m.
Girls – dressed like far shoddier versions of Victoria Secret models – with glasses of Pinot Grigio wine try and blind themselves oh so typically
When we drink we drink to think ten times too fast altogether
Snap the synapse right back to life, why don’t you?
Weather these creatively juiced storms whilst continuing to warm alarmingly harsh nine-to-five cockles oh so fastidiously
Breathe, goddamnit, breathe
A balancing act like no other
Set the bar a little further over on all kinds of serendipitously flavoursome fire
A cocktail waiter with a silent hard-on all of his own
A dire need for the right kind of hearty laughs which get to set each and every single one of these people plied all too dangerously aside genius minds apart
When six gets to become just the one
Storyboard supreme – pristine owing to enough heady mistakes to tear any other person all of the way apart
Have a heart, prepare to stay the distance, permit yourself a self-exiled following morning hangover
These leather-bound and seriously heaving shoulders never so very jovial
The negligee about to lose its negligence, perchance might one of these handsome men like to fall into my ridiculously enticing bed
Morning glory//bed-head
How’s about we propose a shot of tequila to seal the deal
Peel our senses right back together again
5 a.m.
Wagon fair perfectly
When every single words begins to make all kinds of sense
Drenched, tongue-tied, downright starry-eyed

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