She oh said, remain anonymous She said, you will never been a president. She said, you never been lighted, you are digital righted. She said, you should be clever, she pled, Blow job for starched shirt. She said, that’s not your doors, She hung on my neck, increased own worth. You know, you know. Your love smells (like) throw. You know, you know. You are good gardener, but I’ve grown. I’m tired, to do the music. Stay. me in my anesthesia. I’ve tired all my illusion Much more real than your esthetic. I’m dying. forget my music, Stay me in my anesthesia. I’ve tired. all my isolations Better stoned, than your esthetic.