Tinker tots sat eight (or bots,) could say their slots were paid in lots, but preyed in tops, scotch notched on the hops, and sprayed in shots to the crop lock stock.
Falling to a fall zone, it cripples crates of wooden stones, stray far from edges orange; homes seek shelter in the pelted moans.
Been a drill and drilled in tents, shaded lovers razed in hints, splint stints tint mints stick a bone and rent for bents. Can't say you didn't cause, you ended up in them, cant pray your phony cause, you strayed in crime to spend. Take the dime and fend for your own two teeth. Rake inside the lines and your core leaks leech. Take the sign and home becomes the way to fight your feed. Reach dome to fade the weeds, seek tone scrape the sea, take the wake and bake into, the prone the way to see. Cantor, and camped in, the shone begins to sleet. The foam begins to creep, the chrome begins to bleed. Reach in and reach out your only fingers' bleeding. Consequences reeling. Discography steeling. Intoxicating squealing. Reaching and retching like the oldest squirrel screeching.
Hands on pants off sand saddened dance toss (and its lens all aught).
TWENTY-NINE FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE