I've got your raspberries and you can't have them.
The winner takes all.
I'm tripping more than you.
I saw a crawl fish make merry on a snail's tail, before the day even broke! They'd sailed on seven seas and woke by a piddle diddle pond,
spoilt by sea salt and vinegar wrapped in silken rose. I heard it was a mistresses fine linen petticoat ribbon, but both were knotted about the waist, there was not much room to concur. Though I was up the lip in breaded mushroom stalks, I've no room to show you more.
She released the raspberries into her palms, he'd never meant to watch how it was done, his eyes went poppy so much so, that she poured him the rest of her brandy. "A snail tail to top it off, it's salted from off Calmonazalo, the Eastern shore.
Rocka Boa dragged the longest inhalator, I'd ever before saw of a fancy fag. I'll have more. More of that.
The breaded throats stirred up her sights and she started walking politely through the rainbowed storm on eight feet. I suppose she was wearing her best shoes, the ones she gave up to nine inches for her brother's marley lights. One, two, five, six, eight sewn to strap.
Up and down came the crawl fish, and up and down went the raspberries. Both slept long and hard.
A trip to the seas, you can't beat me.
