over my chin. The dogs of time have ripped through my skin, replacing peaceful melodies of serenity with the bitter taste of age. Vibrant colors spew from the mouths
You're a real trooper, son. You're driving skills have proven me wrong. Full of trust, a half bloated goat awaiting my orders. Switching gears, I'm
my chin. The dogs of time have ripped through my skin, replacing peaceful melodies of serenity with the bitter taste of age. Vibrant colors spew from the mouths
You're a real trooper, son. You're driving skills have proven me wrong. Full of trust, a half bloated goat awaiting my orders. Switching gears, I'm the
