Approximation 9, travels to Mars on a moonbeam.

Kinectic apologetic soporific touch of the gall.

A wonderous road, threaded in twain.

It seems it has been a day since your surrender
to me and mine.

Sound is a perilous path, it'll make you understand.
By drivers that pass, cars that swerve on your side of the road.

The kings of past, round the bend of the overpass of the goat.
Deeds are the harpies path, you'll never be able to laugh.

To covet is to die. To die is coveted, by some.

I choose to lie.

I choose to lie.



Around the times.