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Naked in Deuces
Naked in deuces, my wild suit. Losing my sanity
in the shadows of a marauding galloping gastropod
creeping, thinking it was a bottle of Grey Goose
chilling. I don't cotton to window shades of the
mind's inner sanctum deep within my synopsis of
certainty where the quill describes my character.
Where there is Ouzo there is macabre and where
there are mirrors there are cracks in Twilight's
interlude. How sweet the lips of your aria in falsetto,
awakening my senses smelling your embryos of
Mozzarella, in Macedonia. Longing for the olives and
the blue flies on your eyes Echoing the strings of
the Stradivarius. Where there is Ouzo there is macabre.
in the shadows of a marauding galloping gastropod
creeping, thinking it was a bottle of Grey Goose
chilling. I don't cotton to window shades of the
mind's inner sanctum deep within my synopsis of
certainty where the quill describes my character.
Where there is Ouzo there is macabre and where
there are mirrors there are cracks in Twilight's
interlude. How sweet the lips of your aria in falsetto,
awakening my senses smelling your embryos of
Mozzarella, in Macedonia. Longing for the olives and
the blue flies on your eyes Echoing the strings of
the Stradivarius. Where there is Ouzo there is macabre.
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