Be Slow Bob And Wheel
Sweet air,
sugar high on the breeze;
it’s like the county fair;
leaves me weak in the knees
cinnamon in your hair;
Running
as long as you permit,
now my heartbeat’s humming;
Eager fingers comb it,
I find this so soothing;
Let’s go
buck the odds of the fates,
find a nice easy flow;
Panaderia brunch dates,
like my touch let’s be slow.
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