The world of Zion hath many foul tempers
Many blue balls
None as frightening as Ellie Kemper's

Shy greenlit Sunday night cheering woo
Corn taco shells get hard
There is no safe innocence to compare us to

Happiness is too good for me
Lucky potty hole sharing
Boiling soil and the lost shady tree



Throw your ass away

I'm not givin' you a lip to cry on


It's a perfect trap. I am liquid. I float on air. I grieve for the daylight. On top of the height, I feed the creatures that clean my feet constantly.


I flake off while I am stuck to the tree where he finds me and tickles me until I excrete and weep until dark comes and I fall asleep.


He built the wooden cage like a champion of the wild. I slap his hand like a friendly colleague.

that is the end,

the end