Sugn by Lucy in real-time, as I type...
He's a real nowhere man/
He lives in Ashraka eating all the mines/
He'll eat you, if you try/
He's a real nowhere man.
He's a real tri-minute/
He does a lot of things/
His mom says he's not a nice man/
He lives in Ashraka, eats a lot of food/
He doesn't know what to do, a lot of things/
He's knows of a bread of your friend/
You know his mind, you would even say it glows in the dark.
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2 comments:
Possibly a latter-day Nostradamus with those sorts of cryptic ramblings.
Write that stuff down and put it together into a bound volume.
It never ends, of course. I just happened to be sitting here, at the computer, with her nearby. Truly, I could fill volumes.
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