Nine, mellifluous silhouettes asked:
"A sharp, from G?
"Lie to the wife. Act!"
Summer comes but if we cared,
Hypocritical losses would part ways.
Get to see you leaning,
towards an impression.
Share about our sleep.
Eat and talk emotion.
There is mind . . .
Baby I create music.
As a genie, there are paragon effects,
We faithful captured an original symbol,
reversed the self upon air,
What still music is.
Like we care'd about cunning trouble.
How capture cramps this life as communication.
Sweet dishes give Death a chameleon.
Who thought no sand men come?
Still, passionate Gloria's picture paint is stuck.
Why? Some worry.
So let's write a wry, mean joke. Confront the hard part.
The studios don't impress like this.
