The oldest is beautiful.
I wanna marry home with books, outrageous things in my mind, as old as stiff coming out the shit of living, inside out the pairs of something.
Don’t know what I’m living and writing, I still believe everything’s coming out with special grieve and reward, simple reckoning rejoicing to dwell upon dreams quite never ashame to you or someone else.
Well, it's dropping out quite still living hoping you'll rejoice someone who’s still embrace you out of the rain then rather than damage could overdrop thy mind.{fullWidth}