tradition.
OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD.The infinite Skrillifiles: Next Generation— Quantum Force - Podcast készítő Skrillex
Kategóriák:
Anonymous anatomical anomalies A nominal honest hypocrisy Heroism, a genuine debacle Notieriety, no bottle of sobriety Could satiate the eye I see Colorblinded and coincided with NoirC for the audienceC No choir for the chorus, though Symbolism, gifted for the alter Alter ego? Nonsense. A far approach from stardom, but I've often had a job and lost it Standing in the arsenal God, was that awful feeling dehydration?! YES. Get it together, Heather! I think I'm getting sick. It's just a weather change, at best Are we still rhyming? —writing in proses?? What's the difference? What's with the roses? The chosen one approaches. Consider it a rebuttal For what? Something subtle this way comes— Like what. A second husband. Fuck! … Can I eat breakfast now? Amen. HOTDOG. HOTDOG. Omg I love these guys. HOTDOGHOTDOG!!! Yum— That sounds— —Awsome. —Awful. You're a pitiful mess, do you know that. Hmm…yes. Grow up. Trust me, I'm..considering it. Not so fast! Yikes. What happened to this dude. I don't know. Let's avoid that. Entirely. I was summoned! That—no. That never happened. I promise, if I'm somewhere, I was summoned there. Offficer. No. Officer, excuse me. Don't call the cops. Hey! Cops! *dissappears super fast* Hey. What. Whatever happened to Timmy Turner. To who. Timmy Turner. Timmy Turner. HeH. Yeah. Oh. He fucked up too many times. He fucked up a lot of times. Yeah, I know. Okay. Okay?! So what happened to him?! Didn't I already finish this storyline. Technically: Technically what? I mean, the synopsis is complete. Great, then it's done. No, it still needs dialogue. Dialogue. Yeah. For what. For the characters. For who? For the characters. For which characters? Like Drake Bell. You mean Timmy turner. Yeah. Oh, well— ?? Can he improvise? Improvise. What am I supposed to say. I don't know. Just improvise. What if it doesn't work. It'll work: What if it doesn't. I'll work. Just trust me. Trust you. Yes. Hey Friend! I don't want to be friends with you! Aw. Get away from me. You fucking—fuckbot. “Fuckbot” It's a portemantu of “fuck” and “robot” I know what it is. So go away. —fine. Kbye. At least punch my card. I don't drink. So I feel everything I feel sick, Might be Coming down with something Can't take cough drops Those have honey I just want to sleep I just want you to hold me But it was just a dream It was just a dream Now it feels Different in my body Different in my mind Different in my soul (Still sounds good though) But it feels All too real And I still don't drink So I feel everything It's probably all in my head, But I'm better off red anyway Look, a trophy I think I might be coming down with something I got shivers up my spine And I've been coughing, Lately Sometimes I get morning sickness Just thinking Just thinking And you know, I don't drink, so I feel everything I'm trapped in here (I'm aruck inside) I can't let go (I don't know how to show you my world) Cause I sing In all color I still see shapes and colors But I'm stuck in outer darkness No wonder no wonder The whole world is so far off from me Perhaps it's a psycho-symmetric sickness, Still, I'm spinning to dizzy to write this in intricate scriptures; emphasizing restricted— Forget it I haven't been the same since The other day Never slept at all before Or after that Ever If I have another banana, I'm gonna hurl If she has another banana, I'm gonna hurl. A master hypnotist, He is that A damsel in distress? Goddammit. {Enter The Multiverse} [ The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.