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Testo Humour Me
Testo Humour Me
Nine bourbons refuse to pick me up to bring me down, and so I try for ten. One of those nights where I know I am only as good as the size of my enemies. Unapproachable by default. Take me with a grain of salt. A poor excuse for attention, a student sent to detention for not submitting homework given. For allowing you to leave. Keep the window slightly ajar. Cut me free, distract the guard. Humour me, lie to me, pretend to take me seriously. I think theres more to this. My moneys on a mistake. Ill sit and wait and pass the time, whatever it takes to change a mind whoever minds. When all patches have been sewed well have no holes to fall in. Elbows tilted, hips adjoined, well drink to this solution. Humour me, lie to me, pretend to take me seriously. Maybe its a tried tale and our enemies will always grow in size. Maybe were rehearsing for the second time, that last until we die.
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