Whose Vegas (Is It Anyway?)

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Tom Barman

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Hi is this a question i doubt it no longer but don’t eat drink and smoke filthy cigarettes while you drive he bart van home I twice tried to take a decision to scare the pee-pee out of people’s mouths and appealling to a dance hall fad pressurised and automatic there’s so much forced will music and your riches crim-crim and animals think that trash is raining on London Kathleen Castleman’s husband afraid of shadows he died without knowing there’s life after
I’m scared
There’s this darkheart on television that never goes anywhere without life’s stupidity out of phalanx
Know what they say? They say I imitate Sharon Tate but Whose Vegas Is It Anyway?
A lone syndicate for strangers in Bethlehem it’s the day of the night today
And we always feel sorry for what didn’t occur to the unexpected vulgar sympathy
It’s an insult but whose vegas is dumb is that a question?
Or, alternatively knocking on my back is my beautiful aubergine-shaped Miss Beautiful whose Vegas always tends not to seperate Candy from Bandit from some other funky Jackson Browne tunes stuck to a self-sufficient surface of events such as one-in-seven in the middle of a terrifying French mistral breeze, wheeze and Chinese disease
I used to feel said but I’m over it’s head it’s a comparison cause they always ask you the same ‘can I come out of here’ shit like hahaha
And swinging with my friends we broke the common pro-tradition like wise up, kids you see a puma’s life should consider any amount of brains useful and even ten tonnes of mosquito actors can boogallo right why do mine never fuck it
Is that a question? It is. She blew up Surraloons (a place?) find your countries reign. twenty-fice Deutschmarks to sking after parties trick stage in the back of his diapers.
Ha ha. Is that a question? I doubt it.