My dog stepped on a bee, My child spilt my tea, I drank my hot tea, I broke my bloody knee, Now I'm lying in agony, And I'm devestated with no glee
(Again, credits to my really funny friend)
Cradles-By Sub Urban and watersharky Music Productions- I live inside my own world of make-believe Kids screaming in their cradles, profanities I see the world through eyes covered in ink and bleach Cross out the ones who heard my cries and watched me weep I love everything Fire's spreading all around my room My world's so bright It's hard to breathe but that's alright Hush Shh Tape my eyes open to force reality (oh no, no) Why can't you just let me eat my weight in glee? I live inside my own world of make-believe Kids screaming in their cradles, profanities Some days I feel skinnier than all the other days And some days I can't tell if my body belongs to me I love everything Fire's spreading all around my room My world's so bright It's hard to breathe but that's alright Hush Shh I wanna taste your content Hold your breath and feel the tension Devils hide behind redemption Honesty is a one-way gate to hell I wanna taste consumption Breathe faster to waste oxygen Hear the children sing aloud It's music 'til the wick burns out Hush Just wanna be care free lately, yeah Just kicking up daisies Got one too many quarters in my pockets Count 'em like the four-leaf clovers in my locket Untied laces, yeah Just tripping on daydreams Got dirty little lullabies playing on repeat Might as well just rot around the nursery and count sheep
A young cowboy entered a seedy cafe in a small West Texas town. He sat at the counter and spotted an elderly cowboy with his arms folded and his gaze fixed on a bowl of chili. After roughly 15 minutes of staring at it, the young cowboy boldly inquired, “If you’re not going to eat it, do you mind if I do?” Slowly turning his head toward the young wrangler, the older cowboy muttered, in his best cowboy voice, “Nah. Go ahead.” The young cowboy eagerly reached over and slid the bowl over to his spot, spooning it in with glee. He was almost to the bottom when he noticed a rotten dead rat in the chili. The sight was shocking and he immediately upchucked the chili into the bowl. The old cowboy quietly said, “Yep, that’s as far as I got, too...”
Three unlucky jungle explorers were captured by a band of cannibals. Whilst being tied to three respective stakes, the chieftain announces that the hapless adventurers were about to die. "After you're dead, you'll be skinned. The skin will be used to increase our canoe armada, and the rest of you will be food for us and our families." This announcement was met with gasps of despair from the bound trio. "There is one small favor I can offer you," the chief went on. "We'll let you choose your own method of death from what we have captured from other explorers". Some of the tribal members begin walking by displaying various implements of war and death. The first explorer chose a crusty looking musket. Thankfully the powder load still fired, and he was dispatched without much fuss. The second chose a knife and quickly drew it across his throat. Both carcasses were hauled off by various tribesmen. The third explorer stood there resolute and deep in thought. After a few moments the chieftain, "There is no escape, you need to decide now, or I'll decide for yo..." "Do you have a fountain pen in any of that junk?" the explorer interrupted? Baffled the chieftain sent two of his men to rummage. They came back bearing the pen and a bottle of ink. When the explorer noticed the ink was Noodler's Baystate Blue, his grin spread from ear to ear. Gathered round the explorer, spears in hand, the cannibals looked on as he was released and set to work filling the pen with ink. Confused, the chief began to speak, "I'm afraid we have no paper and even if you wrote a final letter, we'd have no way of sending it anywh..." Cackling with triumphant glee, the explorer raised the pen into the air and began ramming it into his torso nib first again and again. He then fell upon the ground gasping a death rattle. Horrified, the chief drew close as the man beckoned him for one final word. "But why this painful death? When you had so many other more merciful options?" the chief asked. Laughing, the man gasped his last statement into the chief's ear, "You'll make no boats from me now, and your mouths will be blue for months!"
In Mia's world, where bottles and parrots meet, A whimsical symphony takes its seat. With feathers ablaze, the parrots take flight, Their vibrant hues painting the day with delight.
Mia, a dreamer with a heart full of glee, Embraces the beauty for all to see. Her bottles, like whispers of stories untold, Capture the magic that time cannot hold.
Each bottle, a vessel of dreams and desires, Unveiling the soul's deepest fires. They dance in the sunlight, sparkle and gleam, A kaleidoscope of colors in Mia's dream.
Parrots, enchanting with melodies rare, Sing ballads of love, floating through the air. Their voices, like echoes of nature's sweet call, Enchanting all hearts, big and small.
Mia, with reverence, sets the parrots free, To soar across oceans, to distant lands and seas. In their freedom, they find their truest grace, A testament to love's boundless space.
And as Mia's bottles journey afar, They carry her dreams, like a guiding star. Through mountains and valleys, they'll forever roam, In the hearts of dreamers, they'll always find home.
