Zink کے بول

Under pale sween rivers under extracts of blue Voluntrocities I wonder and I ask myself could this Be it? and the gloomy 'swounds' of sudden eruptions With viny acclimation stops it slides Me back and tells me it's allright Seashell eyes Moony gloom I like your hair Velocity Mellow stuff in my belly and Where do I go with my weary head My weary head A retreat to a place called Zink my nostrils Shake as I smell the ink and I love it it is Dark but still delicious I like the smell I shake and curl and wrinkle and wrinkle and stop Thinking and wrinkle and wrinkle and wrinkle and wrinkle Seashell eyes Moony gloom I like your hair Velocity Mellow stuff in my belly and Where do I go with my weary head My weary head... Does it go in between? where do I stand In colluminity? or, for this it is capturing And flintely good to have your face in my head. Seashell eyes Moony gloom I like your hair Velocity Mellow stuff in my belly and Where do I go with my weary head Seashell eyes Moony gloom My weary head... I like your hair Velocity Mellow stuff in my belly and Where do I go with my weary head My weary head, my weary head...