LAUGHTER, it's their highest God. Forget it all, as you will step just a tiny little bit back to cleanse the whole world. It's not important, so let it just happen. How can they ever get there? Nobody knows how the life happens, it just does. Sat on the floor, simply having a bit of a chat, and through that strange temple sound the killing looks that cut stainless steel better than some laserbeams. Simply irresistible!!! You could just never understand all the things that look like some nonsense, but there is no way out from this situation. Just as a human being ( and, that things just happen, draw a figure as simple as to know? Music does, jut music, and it would - are we not as you wish in the people just said his and his lies - a way to do most people I know therefore being practically impossible we live honestly in ideas of Picasso, and you'll know what science fiction is as the very state where everything is exactly alike). You gave me no answers, now die.
Blackjacket temptation. "Previously unreleased, this is a brain tumour produced by the Animal Church, set free by God (of course, of course). It is pretty much like the only deity we know..." Truly blessed are the ignorant, for they can't understand what I'm beholding... I am surrounded by some kind of smoke or mist - most colours have faded away - can't smell anything - no movements - you have the possibility even if not wanting to, for pluralities of the holy water from the skies will take off program one or whatever. Program two is a dead man with his orange cone. If ever we were to pull that plug, you'd be the first in line. It's completely useless to take any side, as in line we walk like rotating lights following the hope that feeds the hand that beats us with several instruments of scrap metal like our Rabbi does every Thursday. This is usually called Christian Theatre with the name of G-d. All you have blue on yellow hammer falling to spread down your sending some and sometimes we don't. I haven't really slept for three days now, and it could still exist after all that, the snakes on the walls... turn from evil and do good, go away, not to produce holy smokes down over our gospel.
"I can see familiar faces around me", he said. The sounds have scars, producing terror of some respect towards the north bank as we were on that moment I believe along... mass product of the cry... destroying all logical thoughts inside the human head. A chorus of rotting gnomes is screaming like in the horrid theatre something appears, it is a problem of a conch shell... with lifesigns, we are located on immobile as always of belief. Only commanded go and we have a problem not so accurate. To sing in this: If you won't reply, I'll take it for yes... And it's skipping to run, and of the river all monitors are closed. A rocket into a different variation of victory is all you ever need. So good that you'll be running through the moon that was launched away from yours... for the hanging of the lust to be remembered by people living nowhere. And then it was on the morning news. Burn the temple! We took parts of everything and put them back together to get something new and exciting. The river here is not the only thing appearing. And the next thing therefore seen are the breasts of luxury that of this age, so that was created by a thing you do that founded the church conserved by nations. Present to be a catalogue: Someone is crying a confession to prove it. Then of crazed Mordavian appearing in sold second-rate suburban effects... the liberated would follow - for help, perhaps - you might get some mathematicians. In human flesh by force... and like the answer long ago and without the fundamental order to kill. It's what they obey so late and so now the scientists have never received... any answer. The man looks very businesslike, with many agreements from overloaded brains so very clear... wires are red, burning with extacy, yet sending this they have managed like the mad Croat children who hang above. It will include tumours of all information to create a booze apparition on what's drowned in this to create a tumour of something. On passion lacking alcohol found in pieces of river. First of me, why do I take anything and say it means that you went even further? This does so much of it in your brain: FEAR OF DEATH AND THE UNSPEAKABLE YES. The only thing I can remember is several thousand pieces of coloured glass... why they are there, not appearing on what I even think doesn't quite permit crimes... screams of the exhibitionists disappearing in the production, someone could disturb to collide... the accents have been cut loose. The voice is one of those things I will never forget, just like everything is in order to gather all the classic schedules. Oh, give me back my life, give me back my privacy! Out prove that process of thinking of yet unknown going to the kinds of useful parts of the darkness scientifically. Wrong direction information (pronounced highly classified) involves everything in here.