Mismatch

September 11, 2010
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Blackmail me down with your pearly white myths, my trench coat is already stained with demon blood, I get the impression that you brought a full bag of toys. The evening is dawning upon us and you will be sure to see a full-scale masquerade from my dizzy spells. You should probably sit in my recliner while I widdle a spook story of thieved stealing fallback cash. Write what you see and scratch out your work on tabs. Mismatch me with someone else for all I possess are rhymes spawned from a long night of street weed. Maybe if you stay long enough I can take you to a carnival.





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