Also, tater tot bomb foam ballistophobiac. Basilisks in the clear, mantras hiding in the highlights. Feet wobbling, tripping on themselves. A punch, a collision from a fast moving spear. The ground, the lipstick is vanishing behind the clouds, the kisses will never come, the analog husband will never smile and the question remains unanswered (yeah) Id uh ho will never metamorphose into a bluebottle fly. Beelzebub's blues reek of clarity. Swallows him whole (the womb of life). It reeks of mermaid kings eating their sloth and fairy wingless princesses and their wrath when scorned. Its voice is gender-less and crawls past the city pies and pines of dubious lies, lice, a lice, Alice in Wandaland is Poof[1]. Poof!! (See the magic trick below)
Incest in feast, injest syrup semen, vocal codes squirming in jest. Choobes licking heehaw folk law tubs fork lore bulbs bulbous in mucus mules's dank drum, cold ear to the dung dust, poop blowing breezes (Tra-la-la) Bloated pope belching belly pot, whale bone farmhouse high on pop, pot bloated pots belly pope (Tra-la-la, Tra-la-la)
Tra-la-la mood in Id uh ho, Id uh ho, Id uh ho . Smuggle' uh monk into Church. Stick too close to the source material and you might go sunflower with the tomato. Cherry phosphate and Mac for the son and flower (Oh my gosh!!) Dick speckled dead wants a bridge in Id uh ho, Id uh ho where the sheep's colour special jelly knoll with fat goose legs n uh crumpled wax paper bonnet cycles on dove wings. They dappled, conscience chiselled. Freckles trampled by travelling pimp pimples pickled. The fire fickle, solstice a pickle, cliff-edge gung-ho. Half boar half sow the cottage's woe. Ever climbing, at the window of the universe, thumbs of the secretary mosquito are calypso blue (The foreshadowing of a tomorrow avocado).
Id uh ho, Id uh ho, Id uh ho, Id ugh ho where a drone monk chugging fish net guts is nitid n' ballyhoo. Also, bum belly foam ballistophobiac. Also, the eldritchian quizzity next door is so shifty and phantasmal, blurry and vague that the only thing to be said with certainty is its profoundly incomprehensible whims that are equal parts pulchitridinous, ghastly, vandablack, kalon, smilesmerk, zonky and entirely too nebulous to ever be fathomed by the ephemeral, finite mind. Matter, meta-married to a down to earth knoll man, alp suit, fall punch cloud brain, lightning gaze, atmospheric bearing, space screaming (no one hears), cosmic cliff edge, heavenly nihilism, can't go higher, hire Pearl Sigma with her salamander tongue hair and banana slug jacket and her Red Chevy to race out of Id uh ho.
Id uh ho, Id uh ho, Id uh ho. Racing out of Id uh ho where coke artichoke chalk (Chalk, chalk, chalk) Chalk it up to drink. Drive, U.S.B, you sun (of a) beach, bitch boy in a tomb of beetles, Ra, Shogun, wind gun not on hip of commander cause no cheddar. Blame it on coke, chalk, artichoke (Choke, choke, choke) Chalk it up to drink. Fizz, Shogun fizzing with power. Power prompts paranoia. Paranoia prompts loathing and fear of those below like man towards monkey, pope towards chimpanzee, pop a chimp for some cheeks (tears falling' down).
Soil the sobs, tortured tree croaks, why are they plucking those figs as jobs? A quercitron moon cut in two. Half moon bananas, seem like Taurus's horns. Hobo gets the splash, dash of an eyelash with a tick sized mustache. Depression is shifty & lifelike and its fiery fig leaves scorches any oolong mind. Ursa minor is atop greater-she bear. Both are grinning crew cuts who ignored my stew bass like Merlin did with the hogwash yogurt (Merlin with the hogwash yogurt).
[1] See The Fairly Odd Parents (TV Series, 2001—2017)