Myth tears filch drink. Try fittingest blue, hot wary touch, fix shout sat there, bereft there. There a spy stood like wheat and tarry early wind that leaves sad giggles, traces that make haste. Lick where sent astray send fair loved one spin to say snare there. Hid a lot what gives always bare with love, and after all when I was born lie and luck stood on the brink.
Ears send harmonicas.
They kiss you botch a token word. You cool sat hitched to a book. I hoped to lesson, fell anew a measure, to be a liar who does not tire of stealing fire. In trouble say still leave, halves it took, then it goes. The found gone is on, is the brick, was turned on, around, better found.