Burnman Smacked Supine On The Field Of Prattle
Someone got some mattress in my mud. Someone shot some
bullet in my gut. The grass is whispering tickle into my
ears and the salvos have exploded the sun into dust and a
silver sliver. I believe I see you in the back of my
head, you've stumbled upon yourself there thinking this
hand is a pretty one, my man is a lucky one.
