Big McLargehuge
Apr 13th, 2004, 12:46 AM
My jokes grow old, upon the air
Though laughter still flows.
From lips whose words are like
Bone meal and sugar.
My food I feed, is stale.
But eat it up she does,
Even a novice at interpretation
Could tell the meaning.
I wish my body could give the word
That hers novices say does.
Though laughter still flows.
From lips whose words are like
Bone meal and sugar.
My food I feed, is stale.
But eat it up she does,
Even a novice at interpretation
Could tell the meaning.
I wish my body could give the word
That hers novices say does.