『{Happy Accidents Set #666}』のカバーアート

{Happy Accidents Set #666}

{Happy Accidents Set #666}

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 If this is a vault, I could get ambushed– If it were a parking lot, Then I could get robbed My plate was a lot, But i'm going back for seconds; Well, I walked right into that one It'll take awhile to work its way into words But for now, i'm still heart being hurt Does your stomach hurt? Did your eyes go wrong? No! I got hot all over, Wrote words to a song Worese is, I don't think Anything under the sun And all of esoterics Really string along the whole hypothesis I hope I off myself You can save for the car in the lot You can purchase the clothes on the rack But to know what you want, And just cant have? Like a lock on a door To a home you don't own Nor can you afford. Theres no comfort there. In fact, Much like mother-son abandonment; Unintentional on all behalfs. Perhaps i could cut the time in half Perhaps i cut cut my elbow off Perhaps i'm a dunce What an awful haircut Now I'm a loose end? I guess that's better than a tied knot This sad song is no loose synths But it costs two cents And it's full of resentments I meant it, This is hard work Sentiments The smell of mints and cinnamon ALERT: WARNING! REVERSE QUANTUM SIMULATION THEORY IN EFFECT I'm still in the knock offs and riff with residual memory. You meant it I have an office full of blank checks I slipped three fingers In his breast coat pocket, And don't you know what i discovered at the bottom An oval Don't open it Oh look, a portal to another world. Please, don't touch that. Touch what. Yo, we are fucked. We are so So as much as you say I have memories You might as well have just filled my head with these dilemmas and politics What a horrific incident The jump off What a trough full of horses and numbers! My belief is in the sweet amenities My grief is in the reasons for believing No kitchen to cook in My hair all pulled out Bloodshot eyes And you're right I might as well kill myself in this apartment While I still have it You're right I shit my eyelids over my hindsight Scary people In scary places Doing scary things For scary reasons So what's a delusion When all the world is grandiose? What's the point of a walk In the wrong body? What's the point of being a showrunner When there's already Quinta Brunson And everybody seems to love her Now I don't know what show i'm on Or what I'm on about I have a headache And a very hard time Wrapping my head around it I'm thinking of four songs And a number Can you guess even one of them? What's this one on? God, or Amazon? I don't know, But i'm sorry. I'm so sorry. [The Festival Project ™ ] 7 Spades Seven days later Seven fake deaths Seven stories high 7H Rockefeller Plaza 7 Names Same bitch Main frame Mother nature Same demeanor Technicalities take place Sunny spaces Nominations, Nicaragua, Water caves, and Stop chasing waterfalls And showhosts You know they hate you. Same old Different day Saint Monica And whatername And Joan of Ark and Sacred satan Listen, Linda 2-4-6-8 TEN. AH FUCK. THAT'S EVERYONE THEN? EYES. WE MADE IT. WE MADE IT. OH THANK THE– DEVIL WORSHIPPER! I–WhaT? YOu–YOU LIT THE CANDLE! I THOUGHT HE WAS A VIRGIN. YOU THOUGHT I WAS A VIRGIN? –looked like it! *gasps exaggeratedly, very offended* “The impenetrable ten” Now, the question is: can I get all ten of these people in a room together at the same time. And the answer is: if you ever do—you'll wish you hadn't. THAT IS OUT OF BOUNDS. How are you even fitting in here? I'm—I didn't. Time is slipping. Time is slipping! YOU SCREWED ME OUT OF A DOODLE! A WHAT! A DOODLE. L E G E N D S To a the end of the era, But wish it was the end of the night By the end of the year I just might be As high as I never am But god knows I am And I know I am High but Sober End of the night, but it might roll over I'll pick you up like a four leave clover I should have never called you I should have never ever lover to love you Love you I should never come out at night But if I come out at night, Then I'll make it real loud I gues I've just been wondering Like What is my Midnight perfect I've just been wondering Like What is my Midnight Perfect I'm not a midnight Person More like 3 in the morning But I don't love nothing Almost not yet At all, I think in the back of my mind I'm worth it But when I come out I come right back down To nothing I've been wondering, Like What is my Midnight purpose Imm not a midnight Person More like Three in the morning In the Back of my mind I think I'm worth it But when I come out I come right back down To the surface I'm not a midnight Person I'm not a midnight Person I've been wondering about my midnight Purpose If I'm not perfect m You won't love me Just by looking I've been smaller up front Our back I'm big and round And I' know. Around ...

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