zephyr
The guilty undertaker sighs
The lonesome organ grinder cries
The lonesome organ grinder cries
She? Is this the notorious Wessex, then, or has he been attacked by someone else? From somewhere your foggy brain pulls up a memory about dismembered feet. "It weren't whoever attacked th'dickrektor, was it?" The idea if someone running amok on your docks, attacking your/I> people, fills you with an inordinate amount of aggravation.
Especially when it comes to Sam, who you want so keenly to protect.
Why he can't just acknowledge what happens when he bites you is endearingly mistifying, especially considering how many times you've gone through this ritual now. Still, thinking about your dead kid is enough to squash even the most persistent of boners, so good call there Sam. "Mmm... This time's year's not my fav'rite. Too wet. Too much shit goes wrong." Your head has fallen back and your eyes are closed, a flush creeping up your cheeks.
Okay, maybe there's still a little boner. Just a little. Perhaps.
Especially when it comes to Sam, who you want so keenly to protect.
Why he can't just acknowledge what happens when he bites you is endearingly mistifying, especially considering how many times you've gone through this ritual now. Still, thinking about your dead kid is enough to squash even the most persistent of boners, so good call there Sam. "Mmm... This time's year's not my fav'rite. Too wet. Too much shit goes wrong." Your head has fallen back and your eyes are closed, a flush creeping up your cheeks.
Okay, maybe there's still a little boner. Just a little. Perhaps.
The silver saxophones say I should refuse you
But it's not that way, I wasn't born to lose you
But it's not that way, I wasn't born to lose you
