s stardate 21:58 GMT 2014 6th of October
scooped up fragments / scooped up leaves
s stars in a line
crush that candy man
aint no harm in it
as I can see
Zip it shrimpy
And what the flip are all these things in my pockets?
Get ‘em all out
It’s like being on the threshold of a night club
whilst being on the threshold of a knighthood, man
I just gotta get in.
And as for the beats
It’s good to know that some of them have been there so I
don’t need to go there
Pop those bubbles man
Intrinsic joy
That’s what poppin bubbles is man
aint no harm in it
as I can see
When’s it gonna stop man? Eh? When’s it gonna stop?
This poem that is
and all the
hating
from the excusable to the inexcusable
it’s always a serious malfunction ay?
Why not spread the word, like in posters and that,
that a dark thought is just a tadpole tale of fear
Usually arising in the trail of a thought of greatness
Like a doubt germ clingining
Freud called the death insticts
allied to chemical imbalances from air quality to cherry
cola
and back again via rubber microwave next day pizza crusts
or Scrooge’s lump of beef, as he had hoped at any rate
Let it slide man
you watched horror movies before
don’t got to do it
Cross yourself and hope to live
Be careful on the road
aint no harm in it
as I can see
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