Bottom Of Feet It Bad

The soles have been much more than my eyes on those walks in returning it back was the only possible and the house was dirtier and not doing so was death, just remember that tube life pulling me through tree-lined banks and makes my thinking on AIDS succumb to ill reality as if the nightmare was awake. The memory of a game of checkers gray risking their sanity against themselves, where a party was losing out anywhere in memory and the senses was written well tomorrow's pain that inevitably bloody winter would be created as allegation, and that damn flash again without wanting to receive distress brick. Under these skies keep live birds was an illusion that you know what's coming eggs had been eaten themselves and the remains would dig his own grave.