which raises up off we like two tall angels crooning
it ain't necessarily so and so, or, luck is not knowing. That's the class on incarceration and the paradoxically xenophobic expansionism of our modernity. Lil B is a plan and Frank Sinatra and the word 'trust' has a tantrum and becomes unnecessary to even itself for a spell we call the golden age of the apocalypse. It's fun on the weekend. My mom says 'war came into play back then so people went away and missed one another...' when asked how her parents made it past the rate/ united, and she goes on, 'people were poor back then so they didn't understand dumb stuff,' and I say, right. We better hide like we mean it, exile from exile in an unzipped circle traditional wide eyes on the yield
