come on party were beautifulnnone more taste have to melt and frame hold on Picassonnuplift fusion with massive palmsnnnnpassion immobile is not the solutionnnlet them concur and dig out their own holesnna steady win.. process for evolution cratersnnnnsour, the burning saint in embernnlet her glow ignored while she was completennnnthere is so many days and i still have my dreams nnnnyoure standing still in the shadowsnnid call it lost you save facennbut its passion and its burning my heart out nnscarred now if i die with no soul may i be set in glory nnnnthough you may not agree youre calling beckoningnnso cute seduce menna massachusetts wonder your soul devourednnnnyoure calling this out, though wrapped in denial nni see the finalenncannot replace whats programmed but it can combustnnnntake this body burn this soul nncollapse these dirty lungsnnslow down the effects of no hopennnnso call it, you wanted to be inspired? solved...nnthis is only existence as we have made it a reaming holennand i cannot seennpush my kaleidoscope a little farthernnnni want too see the sun crashnnlonging to stand at the vernanda and lungennive see every shore spat in their mouths nncounted the faces i long to burn out nnnnevery presence knowing i did right... did so well every intention to burn out this citynnfor all.... i long...n