Seven Hours of Angel Food

It's hard to see with your hands tied. Would you, could you, help you learn to try. Remember me with my hands tied. Can he, will she, show me how to fly...

away. Combust and confuse, begin and end. A rail to stand on and the day begins. Sins son abound prodigy to this treason. Death's dust compound mad man of this season.
Supertouch trilogy hypersex soliloquy. Help me, for the shadow man is coming for my soul. What steeps inside mentacidical minds is nothing. Compared to what the darkness suggested. With movement weathers my minds.
Sinister fingers probe my mind. And it bleeds. Taretts mouth gutter punk vile kid scheming. Roche pimp three breaks bleeding. Simple minds are spitting seven pennies. While riding on a breeze of steel pins