JIll "I'm talking about the start at the page turns you know, but its more lonesome when you're not here holding my waist"
Mona " What can I say its' the whistle in the loneliness of height keeps me here held fore the night at its peak wealth" So Jill purrs like a cat in cold heat. Franny's got the gif spoon soup wrapped already . its figtree rhyme with the end of xmas in the capital world/
we dont listen no more to hysteric s in foets | there's wars galore .