Condensing the size of thoughts to a single serving cut in half, cuticles and icicles and raw power is power until it's not.

Entering the preselected mode of time refusal, miming the heartbeat's staccato thump, Colon: I sing an iron iterative guess again, this god fetches Ward's back in fourths, forsooth. The verb nukes the noun jukes the box squoze the trifold menu of slavering mesmerising tense in situ. The vulgate oughta know when to go again and when to matriculate. Soon is a mood if the doom declenses your pragmatism into a gush against what waits.

White chocolate chip cookies crumble in the cringing wire transfer, please hold. This monitor may be called or corded again. All of our answers are turning to the systemic automaton with the next available tone deaf zoning out. 

If this was, then you would know that by now. Sell this song for a big cup and call it a night already, nightingale. The voice apes the mecha as the mocha ages the cup.

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