43 acessos
Let's reminisce of our first dance together
Along the ocean floor.
Your dress was made of egg shells.
My hair was in a pompadour
While we were hunting for the marshmallow coast.
I played a prank that brought shame to one of my colleagues.
I taught herr coushiboe's eyes how to imitate a bog.
They employed their new talent perhaps too frequently.
Finding this incarnation preferable
They decided to stay that way
But then his eyes became ambitious
And they started to grow
They felt confined as a bog
And wanted more recognition
They desired to be acknowledged by a map
And that is how coushiboe discovered my gag
When he opened up a map and saw his eyes
Looking back at him, hopeless opus