[An awful rap in urban space.]
No. No. You got to believing me. When I say I don’t want your life story. I don’t want your life story. I don’t want this jack a nory. No need for boring. I sing like morning. Daybreak. I am alive. Five times the size. Hybrid lives and dreams and drives. I am crowned king of the court. For which I must set forth my life. I bring thee my knife to slam in the stomach. Don’t bring me thy tonic. Don’t sort me. I’m supersonic. Oh please that’s moronic. Your house is full of bubonic. Fever. You bring me fever and I feel it all, no, no, no. Beavers. It is sometime teething pain. Don’t have me explain. I’ve loved you; I’ve left you. I don’t want you. I’ve seen ya.