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Written by Lynk in portal Micropoetry

A fly, A way A mosquito [might]

I know what I am

Not going to be.

I am no writer.

But creativity weirdly engineers

Vexes to some vantage point

I simply cannot see.

You cannot craft something 

Without truly knowing

Who it is for . . . . . 

You,

.. cannot smash a fly

The way you might 

A mosquito. 

  

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Written by Lynk in portal Micropoetry
A fly, A way A mosquito [might]
I know what I am

Not going to be.

I am no writer.

But creativity weirdly engineers

Vexes to some vantage point

I simply cannot see.

You cannot craft something 

Without truly knowing

Who it is for . . . . . 

You,

.. cannot smash a fly

The way you might 

A mosquito. 



  
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Written by Lynk in portal Poetry & Free Verse

No Paper Bags

It's only my birthday 

So here's some rage

Who cares

If history is untrue

We are invincible

We were groomed

We been working out

And not too many

Are doomed

Except for yours tuly

(My dear readers)

But i know what matters

But more umbras

Fighting to love

Each other

Than ones trying to separate

So no matter what

Might have occurred

We're closer, polished now

Without sharp burs

We are believers

Even if in nothing

There is more peace

Than disagreements

As seen in social medias

There are more lines

At the places we go

With interactions refined

Than strangers who hate

It is as if there are

No paper bags

To shield our minds

From reaching these things

And everybody tight

And juiced with knowing

The breadth of our might

Tingling little imbibes

Just what we must be

A fearless intermingling

A kind of history

Exposing the crack in entry

To sublime, nirvana, and Utopia

We will never quite reach

But clinking cheers

And drinking to it anyways

Because they say we

Are not getting along

Today

Laughing at the moment

They think to achieve

Set right in front of us

And just the way

It always was

For some of us

Anyway

Who just want out

Of here

Drop the fuckin bombs

Who cares if history

Will undo

Because there is no other

Body to occupy

Place to go

And it feels wrinkled

The shriveled covers

On gorgeous amber bottles

Pull us on out of our skins

Let us in

To the singlular eternity

This Pittsburgh

Where the rest live

And we watch

Wondering what that

Must be like

We watch

Not realizing

That we are

Inside. 

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Written by Lynk in portal Poetry & Free Verse
No Paper Bags
It's only my birthday 
So here's some rage
Who cares
If history is untrue
We are invincible
We were groomed
We been working out
And not too many
Are doomed
Except for yours tuly
(My dear readers)
But i know what matters
But more umbras
Fighting to love
Each other
Than ones trying to separate
So no matter what
Might have occurred
We're closer, polished now
Without sharp burs
We are believers
Even if in nothing
There is more peace
Than disagreements
As seen in social medias
There are more lines
At the places we go
With interactions refined
Than strangers who hate

It is as if there are
No paper bags
To shield our minds
From reaching these things
And everybody tight
And juiced with knowing
The breadth of our might
Tingling little imbibes
Just what we must be
A fearless intermingling
A kind of history
Exposing the crack in entry
To sublime, nirvana, and Utopia
We will never quite reach

But clinking cheers
And drinking to it anyways
Because they say we
Are not getting along
Today
Laughing at the moment
They think to achieve
Set right in front of us
And just the way
It always was
For some of us
Anyway
Who just want out
Of here
Drop the fuckin bombs
Who cares if history
Will undo
Because there is no other
Body to occupy
Place to go
And it feels wrinkled
The shriveled covers
On gorgeous amber bottles

Pull us on out of our skins
Let us in
To the singlular eternity
This Pittsburgh
Where the rest live
And we watch
Wondering what that
Must be like

We watch
Not realizing
That we are
Inside. 
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Written by Lynk

Heads Up

#hotwednesdays

[heads_or_tails Wednesdays]

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Written by Lynk
Heads Up
#hotwednesdays
[heads_or_tails Wednesdays]
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Written by Lynk in portal Music and Rap

Lyrics - Free as the Rent We don't Pay

Free Rent as the Rent we Don't Pay - Johnny Hobo and the Freight Trains, lyrics revived by Elliott

Well we can do just what we pleeeeease,

But we can never turn on the heeeeeeat

Andeverynight's_a_blackout in this place

Wegetthebills, but wedon'tpay, but wedon'tpay

And I guess you're right 'cause all of my friends are

A DRUG ADDICT!

And I guess you're right 'cause this really is a

PRETTY GROSS MATTRESS!

But I'd rather sleep with junkies than with angels

As the moonlight turns all of us to werewolves

And sunrise is just a gorgeous bedtime, the way

the light hits the cheap wine.

Well I can do just what I waaaaaa--ha-aaant,

And that's get drunk in Vermooooo--ha-oont

Downbythebridge _with_the Colt45

Sippingandwatching them pigs drive by, drive by

And I guess you're right 'cause we're just a bunch of

ALCOHOLICS!

And I guess you're right 'cause we ain't taking down the

SYSTEM TOMORROW!

Sometimes anarchy should mean burning a black flag

And utopia should mean no paper bags

And maybe our hundred drunk_mistakes

Could add up to smash the State, smash the _ _ _ Staaaate

Smash the STAAAATE! ANDIHOPETHATISTHE CASE

CUZOTHERWISE

WE'LL NEVER GET OUT OF THIS PLACE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hL9OUs1GqjM

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Written by Lynk in portal Music and Rap
Lyrics - Free as the Rent We don't Pay
Free Rent as the Rent we Don't Pay - Johnny Hobo and the Freight Trains, lyrics revived by Elliott

Well we can do just what we pleeeeease,
But we can never turn on the heeeeeeat
Andeverynight's_a_blackout in this place
Wegetthebills, but wedon'tpay, but wedon'tpay
And I guess you're right 'cause all of my friends are
A DRUG ADDICT!
And I guess you're right 'cause this really is a
PRETTY GROSS MATTRESS!
But I'd rather sleep with junkies than with angels
As the moonlight turns all of us to werewolves
And sunrise is just a gorgeous bedtime, the way
the light hits the cheap wine.

Well I can do just what I waaaaaa--ha-aaant,
And that's get drunk in Vermooooo--ha-oont
Downbythebridge _with_the Colt45
Sippingandwatching them pigs drive by, drive by
And I guess you're right 'cause we're just a bunch of
ALCOHOLICS!
And I guess you're right 'cause we ain't taking down the
SYSTEM TOMORROW!
Sometimes anarchy should mean burning a black flag
And utopia should mean no paper bags
And maybe our hundred drunk_mistakes
Could add up to smash the State, smash the _ _ _ Staaaate
Smash the STAAAATE! ANDIHOPETHATISTHE CASE
CUZOTHERWISE
WE'LL NEVER GET OUT OF THIS PLACE



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hL9OUs1GqjM


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Written by Lynk

Poetry about Me

[

#hotwednesdays

#timewarpw\djc

]

They write poems about me

But ones that are not very good

That is to say arduously 

They thrive on being quite crude

Some of the most interesting

And mostly the best ones ever 

Written.

They write poems about me

But ones that are fascinatingly good

Because they say marvellously 

How they strive for them to brood

Mostly of summarizing then crushing

And a grossly unrest for one severe

And Smitten.

They write poems about me

But ones that are awfully good

They say things like how sick, ugly

How they feel alive if they are rude

Wholesomely ruining me, visualizing

And ghostly attested a so so clever

Nonfiction.

They write poems about me

But the ones so eloquently good

That display rather laughably

Them contrived insides understood

More so as with a satirizing 

And forcibly invested endeavor

Over-written.

They write poems about me

But ones that are unbearably good

That write poems about me

But ones that are too very good

Maybe save their own surmising

And hastily divesting in shredded 

Criticism.

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Written by Lynk
Poetry about Me
[

#hotwednesdays

#timewarpw\djc

]

They write poems about me
But ones that are not very good
That is to say arduously 
They thrive on being quite crude
Some of the most interesting
And mostly the best ones ever 
Written.
They write poems about me
But ones that are fascinatingly good
Because they say marvellously 
How they strive for them to brood
Mostly of summarizing then crushing
And a grossly unrest for one severe
And Smitten.
They write poems about me
But ones that are awfully good
They say things like how sick, ugly
How they feel alive if they are rude
Wholesomely ruining me, visualizing
And ghostly attested a so so clever
Nonfiction.
They write poems about me
But the ones so eloquently good
That display rather laughably
Them contrived insides understood
More so as with a satirizing 
And forcibly invested endeavor
Over-written.
They write poems about me
But ones that are unbearably good
That write poems about me
But ones that are too very good
Maybe save their own surmising
And hastily divesting in shredded 
Criticism.
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Written by Lynk in portal Philosophy

Gloria

You get six lines

To express the knock 

Upon your back door

So that afternoon i decided

To start reading stories

Beginning from the last page.

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Written by Lynk in portal Philosophy
Gloria
You get six lines
To express the knock 
Upon your back door
So that afternoon i decided
To start reading stories
Beginning from the last page.
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Written by Lynk in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Lost Receipts

[had a fire consume one of the places I lived, and lost damn near everything - Here is a poem about coming home to it]

all the vehicles on the road today

Will be obsolete as quickly

As the device upon which

This reads. -

"what will you do world, when

It cannot use and shit on me anymore?"

And what advantage

Am i supposed to take

With these hard copies of spam?

Like all the interesting art

Generated within every hour

Worth centuries

Yet like annual flowers?

Deliver individual pieces

Like mailing post cards?

Burn them away like gas

That vanishes like it will last?

Oh but we made it home again.

[Did we really?]

Here I am

Printing documents just for

Reviewing insurance terms.

Might as well be thrown away, as well.

Yet where are my receipts?

For the rectangular dust vacancies?

That whole back swinging screen door

Slamming in stolen breezes

Where the needless uniforms meet suits,

To take inventory of the missing

Things in my scenes

They never experienced.

And what should I do?

With each business card?

Or empathetic look and offering -

Here in a week?

Considering my golden desk

Has up and disappeared too?

Which held proof of life;

Purchases; and investments in me;

Priceless scrambles

Along scattered narrow pages;

Who is going to repay me those?

The only sort of valuables

That were in considerable savings.

And what should I do?

With this tune : : : : :

D-DA-LA-DA-DA

[DALADADA]

D-DA-LA-DA-DA

[DALADADA]

Donlundlundun_da_da_da

Now stuck on mute in my head ? ?

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Written by Lynk in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Lost Receipts
[had a fire consume one of the places I lived, and lost damn near everything - Here is a poem about coming home to it]

all the vehicles on the road today

Will be obsolete as quickly

As the device upon which

This reads. -

"what will you do world, when

It cannot use and shit on me anymore?"

And what advantage

Am i supposed to take

With these hard copies of spam?

Like all the interesting art

Generated within every hour

Worth centuries

Yet like annual flowers?

Deliver individual pieces

Like mailing post cards?

Burn them away like gas

That vanishes like it will last?


Oh but we made it home again.


[Did we really?]


Here I am

Printing documents just for

Reviewing insurance terms.

Might as well be thrown away, as well.

Yet where are my receipts?

For the rectangular dust vacancies?

That whole back swinging screen door

Slamming in stolen breezes

Where the needless uniforms meet suits,

To take inventory of the missing

Things in my scenes

They never experienced.

And what should I do?

With each business card?

Or empathetic look and offering -

Here in a week?

Considering my golden desk

Has up and disappeared too?

Which held proof of life;

Purchases; and investments in me;

Priceless scrambles

Along scattered narrow pages;

Who is going to repay me those?

The only sort of valuables

That were in considerable savings.

And what should I do?

With this tune : : : : :

D-DA-LA-DA-DA

[DALADADA]


D-DA-LA-DA-DA

[DALADADA]


Donlundlundun_da_da_da

Now stuck on mute in my head ? ?
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Written by Lynk

Notification of the Cloisters

{excerpt, Ahss-4e /Ahold of shoulder straps\}

~~~~>Form a legend; metropolis in seaweed dried up by yours truly. The oily sun - Co-OPMan\made structures in ruins\of caverns plowed deep;/& after solar tubes failed to rid the shores of algal blooming\\ stored then recycled bridge cables into a strange conductive like, a mysterical rope... then reinstalled in Artificial formations, multiple layers\onground,from -cut rectangular, slabs too divided; thcsiteMK3Xmiles wide, which topo reached 10000 in-gap-time-aclmods. Crusted. Eroded. Shores. reinforced In\what? yea u got it _ _ _ _ coooldbinet\ measured as twifurlong/twichain 206{%[]%} year inside the core-display\driedup\that we touched, first poltergeist & electrocutions, lantern in solutions, perched headlong penetrate, cyberspace into some; whatever; adaption mutated, screeb\grabtherope pull & uP poke-thru evolution; when they figured me to remain all unwritten; click\bam\ when they figured a way to connect broadband via marine algae to the 4th rock, massive fluids out channels from underneath\surface%[symbol]%-seeprint. stunted commerce to temples as if wax-house coating corneas\heated; yet into full potential, melt fat mine overwhelming, touched mind to permanent implant of frictionless programs; and upload thru the port operating to thc site like ibreaths rom out step\not in, but without; within without

[unless updates/search\ within without ourselves and into the ones we have created.?.]

None.

Somewhere over the rainbow here we come . . . . .

There was tremendous sucks and overloads, rewind<----, quadrabits in every initial second, data link to the moon - then pure imagination \beacon of tweaks & adjustments, sais, "Shift. Relegate\transfer to Mars," and hcx went...

Check out these hits. Whereas imnot supposed yyo say, but here is:I am going to mention ---hit; the one they call Fyvfoon in two-tone to the poles tuning folds, forks, in the everlasting revolutions, not spun perpetually peripheral by most recent security upload\now complete.Mmmm you'd-prefer-an-astronaut-like Wireless, ,,, but in a capacity consciousness contains, the entire scope which once pretty in pink went punk was term\\ internet-loom \\infinite crystal lattice\ worldsapart \ hanging like chards of copper. again. Pipes. Set in.

Cleansing my eyes of hist. moisture & fries swine stings in sinuous in-that'sright-seaweeds ohh we became most magnificent & mucusy withall the time in the worrld to stir. Plato has; image. iForming protrusions slithered\network\receiving ah-hiss like pipes setting in. . . . .

??connecting two worlds to one another via a regular universal serial bus\ how they wer able to use seaweed the entire distance and then transfer as terabots . . . . . ??

'I think I'm in--'

Iwrrerr- screamed beforrrrthy heard Mars reassuring 'dis boy got tai flu!'---'was u rappin he a typhoon?' Out the side hos sheek flex too, like the squall spooked; screaming trees sound like seagulls, and Mars zoomed bar codes ofc ghe edge this sandchez batch nearly fell in; rocket tubes to the moon. WAit!! 'hiz eyes' iezeyz ..... one went, about the lines & str wipes tick trace gigs unraveled bites. "Oh hail. naw this screw one too," there it goes, dominos, aahhsss Mars tongue his eyes & struggle to surmise in a strung sick impression hcx had never given,

unto udigest, "lets geta this a-part Ts, defrag\revers connnections, counter parts.". --made myself close to me feeling the change, 5 sq. Shuffle shapes of an uncommon USB.Removed even before me. But no.

'Rhis?"

We had to flee wherever it wax to; in; we, still running, but candela circulate .... if only I thought of right words---"wAit! That's a Radio?!"---isay 'we cankeep rolling low and connected via windows, no longer page that suspend-d-self consumable in safe mode, & data recording mmmedia, [as usual] y_t-transfer complete. '

'Tks for ragin.'

"Huh?"

---'yur memory device please....'..

Flash! drives provided by LGs, with the latest last part resembling some break in the entertainment.....had to flee; did not connect seas to Mars; so-ernmss AP come alive\Almost Pakmer.\.inside\rhus place uhall thrive; on breathing barks of trees, soot --we has to flee, carrying the dll in them\ AP\ among these like thieves, quarantines I spokeofso esoterically; kept our distance, flowing signals in speeds\ but made by them\there\byme =] friends winkwink in that we became acquainted considering a place that never ends. All i could think was

how easy

it would be

to release \fog the perpetual programs' necessary mmmmpld out \ into \ all attatched then crisscrossed roots\pipes set in through space, runrubberbandballl men pin into oblivion\where adorable light out there bends. Diamonds. Green taking shape. But my backbone extend, stretched inflow of those reqeuesting interest in the consideration of joining such an exquisite revolt, revolution. Shot heard roun _ thieves & friends. Steal. We. . . . .  That is, them Osss [mmyes, thats a funny thing] ... .. revolution. fireballs----balloon ends\inflated center, belly wothout hcx\Mars\infectious \ fantasia mmooon \, a like instant trasverslling - tear\ torn xhc did\tooday\Angel\upload\fragments fixes??

Searching . . . . .

of squalls, scudsin stratosphere, two worlds collided at edges of our sight, used\ yours, truly, mine. . . . . Lovin can hurt sometimes, thc dark debris connecting & accumulation, removaltool\? inside\ the pocket, ripped. Off, cc mi stardust auras, saturns ring shreddin earthly,, flings; but wax- Mars 'spread against/\riseagainst' (((((i)))))

<,interlude >_#behindclosedoors

& exittooo #tomorrow

#hotwednesdays W/ James

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Written by Lynk
Notification of the Cloisters
{excerpt, Ahss-4e /Ahold of shoulder straps\}


~~~~>Form a legend; metropolis in seaweed dried up by yours truly. The oily sun - Co-OPMan\made structures in ruins\of caverns plowed deep;/& after solar tubes failed to rid the shores of algal blooming\\ stored then recycled bridge cables into a strange conductive like, a mysterical rope... then reinstalled in Artificial formations, multiple layers\onground,from -cut rectangular, slabs too divided; thcsiteMK3Xmiles wide, which topo reached 10000 in-gap-time-aclmods. Crusted. Eroded. Shores. reinforced In\what? yea u got it _ _ _ _ coooldbinet\ measured as twifurlong/twichain 206{%[]%} year inside the core-display\driedup\that we touched, first poltergeist & electrocutions, lantern in solutions, perched headlong penetrate, cyberspace into some; whatever; adaption mutated, screeb\grabtherope pull & uP poke-thru evolution; when they figured me to remain all unwritten; click\bam\ when they figured a way to connect broadband via marine algae to the 4th rock, massive fluids out channels from underneath\surface%[symbol]%-seeprint. stunted commerce to temples as if wax-house coating corneas\heated; yet into full potential, melt fat mine overwhelming, touched mind to permanent implant of frictionless programs; and upload thru the port operating to thc site like ibreaths rom out step\not in, but without; within without

[unless updates/search\ within without ourselves and into the ones we have created.?.]

None.


Somewhere over the rainbow here we come . . . . .

There was tremendous sucks and overloads, rewind<----, quadrabits in every initial second, data link to the moon - then pure imagination \beacon of tweaks & adjustments, sais, "Shift. Relegate\transfer to Mars," and hcx went...

Check out these hits. Whereas imnot supposed yyo say, but here is:I am going to mention ---hit; the one they call Fyvfoon in two-tone to the poles tuning folds, forks, in the everlasting revolutions, not spun perpetually peripheral by most recent security upload\now complete.Mmmm you'd-prefer-an-astronaut-like Wireless, ,,, but in a capacity consciousness contains, the entire scope which once pretty in pink went punk was term\\ internet-loom \\infinite crystal lattice\ worldsapart \ hanging like chards of copper. again. Pipes. Set in.

Cleansing my eyes of hist. moisture & fries swine stings in sinuous in-that'sright-seaweeds ohh we became most magnificent & mucusy withall the time in the worrld to stir. Plato has; image. iForming protrusions slithered\network\receiving ah-hiss like pipes setting in. . . . .
??connecting two worlds to one another via a regular universal serial bus\ how they wer able to use seaweed the entire distance and then transfer as terabots . . . . . ??

'I think I'm in--'

Iwrrerr- screamed beforrrrthy heard Mars reassuring 'dis boy got tai flu!'---'was u rappin he a typhoon?' Out the side hos sheek flex too, like the squall spooked; screaming trees sound like seagulls, and Mars zoomed bar codes ofc ghe edge this sandchez batch nearly fell in; rocket tubes to the moon. WAit!! 'hiz eyes' iezeyz ..... one went, about the lines & str wipes tick trace gigs unraveled bites. "Oh hail. naw this screw one too," there it goes, dominos, aahhsss Mars tongue his eyes & struggle to surmise in a strung sick impression hcx had never given,
unto udigest, "lets geta this a-part Ts, defrag\revers connnections, counter parts.". --made myself close to me feeling the change, 5 sq. Shuffle shapes of an uncommon USB.Removed even before me. But no.

'Rhis?"

We had to flee wherever it wax to; in; we, still running, but candela circulate .... if only I thought of right words---"wAit! That's a Radio?!"---isay 'we cankeep rolling low and connected via windows, no longer page that suspend-d-self consumable in safe mode, & data recording mmmedia, [as usual] y_t-transfer complete. '

'Tks for ragin.'

"Huh?"

---'yur memory device please....'..

Flash! drives provided by LGs, with the latest last part resembling some break in the entertainment.....had to flee; did not connect seas to Mars; so-ernmss AP come alive\Almost Pakmer.\.inside\rhus place uhall thrive; on breathing barks of trees, soot --we has to flee, carrying the dll in them\ AP\ among these like thieves, quarantines I spokeofso esoterically; kept our distance, flowing signals in speeds\ but made by them\there\byme =] friends winkwink in that we became acquainted considering a place that never ends. All i could think was

how easy
it would be

to release \fog the perpetual programs' necessary mmmmpld out \ into \ all attatched then crisscrossed roots\pipes set in through space, runrubberbandballl men pin into oblivion\where adorable light out there bends. Diamonds. Green taking shape. But my backbone extend, stretched inflow of those reqeuesting interest in the consideration of joining such an exquisite revolt, revolution. Shot heard roun _ thieves & friends. Steal. We. . . . .  That is, them Osss [mmyes, thats a funny thing] ... .. revolution. fireballs----balloon ends\inflated center, belly wothout hcx\Mars\infectious \ fantasia mmooon \, a like instant trasverslling - tear\ torn xhc did\tooday\Angel\upload\fragments fixes??

Searching . . . . .

of squalls, scudsin stratosphere, two worlds collided at edges of our sight, used\ yours, truly, mine. . . . . Lovin can hurt sometimes, thc dark debris connecting & accumulation, removaltool\? inside\ the pocket, ripped. Off, cc mi stardust auras, saturns ring shreddin earthly,, flings; but wax- Mars 'spread against/\riseagainst' (((((i)))))

<,interlude >_#behindclosedoors
& exittooo #tomorrow
#hotwednesdays W/ James
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Written by Lynk

heads up

Well, here's some more music

1 2 3 4

Someone SUCKed ME

latelastevening

And it was time to make a chaange

And iWonder

am i too late

am i too far estrange

For what i have been doin for all of these years

Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

I have so few

good memories

somethings terribly wrong

As a singer

singing badly

As he tries to sing the wrong song

Look what i have been doing all of these years

Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

Something moving in the light

Something spoke to me and said "go, go, go, go"

Something's moving in the house show

Something to show

For what ive been doing for all of these years

Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

Someone sucked me

late last evening

And it was time to make a change

And i Wonder

am i too late

am i too far estrange

For what i have been doin for all of these years

Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

#hotwednesdays w// Violent Femmes

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Written by Lynk
heads up
Well, here's some more music

1 2 3 4
Someone SUCKed ME
latelastevening
And it was time to make a chaange
And iWonder
am i too late
am i too far estrange
For what i have been doin for all of these years
Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'
Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

I have so few
good memories
somethings terribly wrong
As a singer
singing badly
As he tries to sing the wrong song
Look what i have been doing all of these years
Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'
Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'
Something moving in the light
Something spoke to me and said "go, go, go, go"
Something's moving in the house show
Something to show
For what ive been doing for all of these years
Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'
Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

Someone sucked me
late last evening
And it was time to make a change
And i Wonder
am i too late
am i too far estrange
For what i have been doin for all of these years
Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'
Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'
Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'
Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'
Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'
Sleepwalkin' Sleepwalkin' Slee-ee-eepwalkin'

#hotwednesdays w// Violent Femmes

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Juice
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Written by Lynk

sometimes

My life is pretty easy sometimes

All I have to do

Is keep running

To be first to find the missing stones

And then until the lost city

Where they belong

Fighting everyone that comes along

to steal them

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Juice
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Juice
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Written by Lynk
sometimes
My life is pretty easy sometimes
All I have to do
Is keep running
To be first to find the missing stones
And then until the lost city
Where they belong
Fighting everyone that comes along
to steal them
5
3
0
Juice
21 reads
Login to post comments.
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