yoyoyoyoyodel la he who yoyoyoyodel yodel yo! Sleep isn't for me. I'd rather smoke the weakest tree, and be a lean mean lonely free-loading weeb for everyone else to see. The funny thing is, you're always wrong. Inhaling that kind of loose fluid, from hitting my bong, way too hard. This isn't the best part. Now you're torn apart, thinking about the finest art. Just throw, and I'll be the harshest dart for your blackened sharted heart. With the target that you bartered, then finely marked. I'm just a fat bard, looking for a leaky piece to finally start. We're just words apart. Guess my heart went too hard for the lard. You were always the brightest highest martyred star. But baby.. We were always fucking worlds apart. yoyoyoyoyodel la he who yoyoyoyodel yodel yo!
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