Watching us in your garage

Big girl you ate the neighbor

The nova

Is over

Wake up and play

balleradio

Make room for Clara's bare feet

The love of a martian

Tick tock and waiting for the meteor

This clock is opening another door

Lost of love just keep it comin' Making something out of nothin'

These are the best that I

I don't know how to say

Losin' what I love today

These are the best that I

Lost of love just keep it comin' Making something out of nothin'

These are the best that I

I don't know What to say

Look at what I lost today

And these are things that I

Blood flowers in the kitchen

Signing off and winding down

This Martian ends her mission

The nova is over

She caugth the ball

By the mission bell

Chase lizards bark at donkeys

The love of a Martian

Let's bow our heads And let the trumpets blow

Our girl is gone God Bless her little soul

Lost of love just keep it comin' Making something out of nothin'

These are the best that I

I don't know how to say Losin' what I love today

These are the best that I

Lost of love just keep it comin' Making something out of nothin'

These are the best that I

I don't know What to say Look at what I lost today

And these are the things that I

She's got a sword in case though this is not her lord in case the one who can't afford to face her image is restored to grace

Disappeared No trace. Musky tears. Suitcase. the down turn brave little burncub bearcareless turnip snare rompages pitch color pages

down and out but not in Vegas. disembarks and disengages. not loft

Sweet pink canary cages plummet pop dewskin fortitude fir the sniffing black noses that snort and allude to. dangling trinkets that mimic the bird cough go drink its. it's for you

Blue battered naval town slip kisses delivered by duck muscles and bottlenosed grifters arrive in time to catch the late show

It's a beehive barrel race. a shehive stare and chase wasted feature who tried and failed to reach her. Embossed beneath a box in the closet that lost

The king that you find when you mind your ows mysteries. shiv sister to the quicknees before it blisters into the newmorning milk blanet

Your ilk is funny to the turnstyle touch bunny whose bouquet set a course for bloom without decay

Get your broom and sweep the echoes of yesternights follen freckles...

Away... thanks you