Famous Dog Comes To Town

His Christian name was Pete.

Ticking off in the back of my head.

Pizza as an excuse to drink beer.

I'm going to have dinner @ 7.

That's right: Songs by Bobbi - Volume 1.

For you and me from Reuters.

It would flatten my flat.

It's las horas de sueño.

Not now.

Strawberry dynamic repositories.

The doctors tell me that I have already displayed a store of antioxidants.

You smile and say "Give flower to the manifold humor."

That I could not cry to you benefits your cobalt assumptions.

Come, build in the empty house of stare.

The gods have plucked bedsprings from your head.

Who can reach the deaf? It!

You carry me in your pocket, naked.

We shall recreate ‘normal’.

It wasn't what I thought.

Our bodies may encompass all mother birds in the world.

This is eternity. This is eternity.

No, this is eternity with its swimming movements of the dead, God himself in a burlap sack, and small snails on the rose hedges.

With what do we pay?

We love to talk and print.

Meatballs have taken up most of the blue tenera.

It was a dream. It was a dream.

No, this was a dream.

And we share with our people the luxury of seeing it all.

Like you, the rest of us obey the sting.

Like me, as a child I wore ironic pants of light.