Sudden recollection:
July 2004.
(alewife fished avec jute et port)
Reworded into a song (E7)
He was the man of the hour on another rainy night in Brussels, Massachusetts. I mean, things were really swell-like; an accidental birthday... ¿preguntale?
How the hell you gonna get to Schipol Airport? Wid yer ass in the window? And a trolley auto wreck and police entrapment and your dick in a sling and your head is a cock and your doodles they don't squawk and together holding hands and it's all run amok and ooooooooo.
Motherfucker.
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