Sin Imperial

I may not be high fashion, but I’m fetching in faded denim and sing with a passion. I may not live in a mansion but I got chat like your Nani and I fill out my man skin. So I throw my hat in the ring worm trap and pass go. It’s a thing you chew and chew but never swallow. It’s narrow and shallow. At home I live with a question, but I’m bold as the ocean when I’m out on a mission. Tension, release and tension. Endless Arkanoid, a life devoid of dimension. But six week stretches of lecherous glances have led much wiser ones than me to plunge once in the sea of any stranger who passes. Oh, it ain’t what I need at all, but you said not to call, and in my grief, it feels like relief until tomorrow. No, it ain’t what I need at all. It’s leading my clearness on to move improperly. It’s throwing my forces off. I may not be high fashion, but I showered at the Sheraton, my socks are matching. Gum gut gizzards of the man of the actions. In the club trying to talk over the music that’s blasting. Get your best local dish, already finished the rations. Imbiss of the penis, man, the damage is lasting. You’re better for fasting. Yeah, it ain’t what I need at all, but you said please don’t call, and in my grief, it feels like relief until tomorrow. No, it ain’t what I need at all. It’s leading the clearness on to act so carelessly. It’s throwing my forces off. Mile tall wall. Sin imperial. I may not be high fashion but I’m disarming in horn rim and I sing with a passion. I may not be Ted Danson but feel free to keep drinking while the tickets are lasting. Born in a tenement, and perish no pension, under many penny weight of my own expansion. *Damn son!* Is that better than the premise you planned on? It ain’t what I need at all, but you told me not to call, and in my grief, it feels like relief until tomorrow. No, it ain’t what I need at all. It’s leading my clearness on to push up randomly. It’s throwing my forces off. I built this wall. Sin imperial.