1/This conscientiously quantifiable thing
And they’re away… on a fecksome, firesome whim

2/To ply these lyrical lines right by the other person’s bare-bones pledged allegiance to their trusted musical souls

3/To pose a most wayward aided by awry threat – fret not, or please do indeed

4/As the case may well spellbind itself to turn out to be

5/Take we down to Kansas City where the girls wear pearl-diamond earrings, outlandishly pretty – they drip to sway, drop a manicured arm to swat all of the pretty little pretenders away

6/So us predisposed men do pray to prey atop them like molten lava wildfire

7/Stealing our reshuffled words from these muted fools as we walk through these flames of hardcore passion

8/Puddled and puzzled by shallow eggshell pools

9/Hand-in-hand the band-of-man RAINS recklessly THROUGH, just not today

10/It appears to be insanely, insipidly inspiring inside of her smokey blue-moon hue eyes

11/And we get to cry and witness to sizeably see, all of She…
Got lost on the airwaves but, my oh my, how she got herself brave again and got to getting found-out by the end

12/Bound by all of these glorious mid-a.m. instances – weather-spattered matter of a factual fact actualised, sun-soaked stoked-to-stroke unforgettably within

13/Tweed-jacket wearing imbeciles with pencil-wrapped-up Woodbines near their flotilla minds

14/This realisation rip-curled poetically inside is finally sending shivers down the creative side

15/To reach inside of our beatnik minds

16/And she sees it all at breakneck pedestrianised speed – feels it, every last to next heavenly set bohemian-risqué, juxtaposed-driven piece

17/She is in all of We just far more pretty for it
Tempestuously wrestled to meet my paralysed eyes right by the melting-pot middle
Please, and terrifically vice-versa, let it

18/So very easy this time

19/I’ve been twisting my bleeding Blues blurred fingers within this 1960s Stratocaster Fender to please you oh so goddamn ceaselessly – irreparably perhaps

20/A lapse in time that brought us right back
To maybe we might, maybe we shall – dance tantalised at the clock strikes moonlight

21/Twenty-one again when the pen set sail

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