pretence is patience
mohawks spike drinks
this social samber a proper-gander
'dance it, we'll 'V' it,
if you like it
we'll 'F' it
and if you wait for it,
you'll get it'
with the preset of pretence set in waiting room or in a room of kitchen, sits a hostile oven, in there - a cake (of your head)
you let it set
option in opinion treads instead into circular direction of distant circulation
this tunnel we walk under, is an unsociable thunder
but... this world that we live in.. where do we start... to begin...
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