Fresh cut grass meets the morning dew. Majestic sunsets and cordon bleu. Pecan pie and potpourri. Honey dew melon and smoked gouda cheese.
Perfume pardons. Cologne colludes. The only reliable things are pot and booze. Lust is simple. Love is a dream. Some people just crave a more intiment scene.
Respect and admiration. Folk and fore. When one door opens, two doors are no more. Because doors never close and feelings always change. Every meow and again we all need some strange.
Unrest is black. Tomorrow’s norm. The general population has yet to spot the forthcoming storm. Evil is evil. It has no color or shape. In 49 states, I think, a rape is still a rape.
Fire and brimstone. Hail and sleet. God damnit, Dre. Where’s the got damn beat? Tell em Lil Jon, aww skeet, skeet.