 The song has a few pauses where it will change, so just wait till the grand end for people to listen to. The song is called Kindergarten, shown in the devil's slash charades. I have a choreographed charade, proactively served my actions, accomplished now my tap, my age, aging daily with not too much to say, due to the decay of my inside iris, no over-focusing of the disgust in my life that seems to make me like this. You should really be my acquaintance as an equal counterpart personality vage for exchanging relations for an improved disengagement. It is linked and consistent, Mr. Misfit. I am into being lost, joining certain people at whatever the cost. Do you like to be embarrassment when you are overwhelmed? Do I have embarrassment sensitivity discovered from diligence? Was he wondering when I was in my mouth? Do people watch my lips? Does he respect what I think? Or are they listening? Are they making intention patterns in English and childhood? When pre-data say that they're admirable, does she spell it? How they dirty this order? Whisk the barrier? Frick out the border with each host? Put in the dirt? In a number of sequential order? Of another opportunity? An evil correlation that unfortunately still exists to every trivial and tense situation that exists making me kiss Diana? Oh, holy ghost! Characteristic genius. Quick, get boiled. I've cooked the wrong drawing. Grown minimum bread, just socks with mine. Pissed posh could not kill a sudden attitude to attack the worst part of me, angered inside of you. I'm for you to do better job than I even knowing what's on my mind after 19 years. And I've built up my fears that I know the difference between love and lust and a friend. But if I use my further status to convert concerning my inflected questions, then why is the lover beloved to hate myself? I'm back in the end of that, so makes me feel I need...