last swan of avon

socalled swan of avon n/t but a beaurocrat buggering the buttercups goy from the waist up now soldiers’re the ones making offers and fucking caravaggio posters maybe the artist had bothered about melancholia suddenly xe finds xemself walking down some dark corridor california was truly the promised land for a minute there video marlboro to show us shoppingcart in dingy water and then turn melancholical sign reads no squatting switchd on the cathode ray at yr coronation the bomb droppd w/ regular monotony leaving us wanting a to zed dampened a grid satyrical deliria pan’s baallet in a black tutu who have the inclination but even whose    necromancer— firelit but dred— —commandeering meadows— protests were pathetic