Mom, Dad, Harry. Horny, dipshit Moses with moss, most of most think we live in a morgue with many a ghoul. Lash on the plate so we whip our voluptuous mouths away. Singe our sick socks so we don't sink our souls into the goulash. Pearly whites in bruxism, no tooth music. Grind for the green toothpaste, we only in it for the money (me and mom anyways).
Marry Dad Harry like hippocampi dining with Marie Collart the green light. Uh maze in gres, how sweet the sow ('n' d) that served a (retch) like me. Eye wants was lost but null eye'm found. Was blind butt null eye sea. Aye aye, eye see, eye see devilish beef. It claims angelic intentions like a newly crowned chief but grief coloured its wings. Only brief, the hand still holds unwavering belief. Blast for relief, silence is god, feeling like a fermented rice snake in the quiet minutes after explosive sex. Just fucked a dye and didn't die, just fucked a dye and didn't dye! Shit, gonna get so much green I'm gonna metamorphose into verdigris. We only in it for the money (just me this time).
Mayan Dead Harry like mystique drug hobo found in the street, the jig is up. We commit no crime, just in it for the money. Mom for the Mother People in the Concentration Moon and I for the Nasal Retentive Calliope Music. Should have gone to Cali, Big Ben on the great quest for Joseph and the rainbow of many colours. Should have rescued big bro, now Stalin trapped between the star-line of white genius and neutron star madness. Now he a thin supernova and I, I'm a just a chunky ass pound of flesh newly processed for Lob's pound.