by LC moreno
Such a classic. It's the weaker form in percentage right?
| Boones, moon, no, it was noon. I'm such a fool. First, I'm immune to your drunkenness', strawberry hill; I assumed you were innocuous, now I adore your sweetness.|
I used to fancy bud light, the peculiar acrimonious flavor that penetrated my palate, you were never quite fond of when you were commencing that first taste; it was a date, wasn't it? It was fate.
But subsequently, out of nowhere, you absolutely adore its savor; with each passing sip, you are dreamy and thoughtless.
I blather need you rancorous bud light; you make me utterly bonkers, and I wanted you more with each passing glass. I stay away from you as you are wholly perilous.
Boones, moon no it was noon....And I sip on your sweetness strawberry hill, watching old re-runs not on the internet but on tv.
Because I want to go back to the nineties, but I will conform with the eighties, please make me happy again... please!
Your still so harmful even though you are the weaker form in percentage.
Is there a problem? Yes, yes, there is a problem; why is this legal? It has to be illegal to be so congenial and presage.
Why have I crawled back to this when I thought I was cured? That's obscure, I need a cure. I guess I have been plagued by genetic factors.
On top of it all, now you are going to make me diabetic, your so sweet-tempered, gee.
Boone's, noon, moon? Where was I? why day time? when everyone can see your imperfections?
Oh, it hurts! I can't move, I grow old...Boones at noon and soon to make me feel young and free; no more pains again because who cares at noon with Boones; cheers!
Boones, moon, Noon!!! Fuck it right; you're the weaker form in percentage. I'm such a fool...your so cruel...