umbrellar

Last pint from that last night
I don’t know if that was real
And I swear I’m superstitious
'Bout her sex appeal
Last blunt from that last night
I don’t know if that was real
When she brought her wand out
I knew I had lost our deal
I really gutted out her womb
A fickle fight, an icky croon
Her breath condensed into a flume
And pulls her eyes into a tomb
Fuck her whip, she rode a broom
Casts a spell onto the moon
All this worth that she exhume
All this worth that she exhume
Last pint from that last night
I don’t know if that was real
And she knows I’m superstitious
'Bout her sex appeal
Last pint from that last night
I don’t know if that was real
And I swear I’m superstitious
'Bout her sex appeal
Last blunt from that last night
I don’t know if that was real
When she brought her wand out
I knew I had lost our deal