Letras
It was parked at the rental dock
A one whole cotton woman
She circled back, was sweatless
She denied any humid spin
She ignored her whimpering wet dress
Yes, we'll be putting that off
Who's even demanding new fiction
Unappreciated joys hidden under fatty past
The expired vitamins in critics' kitchens
But words can be a bad mast
The lot is revisited on a different day
The woman's car is available to rent
Substituted wrecks while insurance delays
Drink oil to share the car's sentiment
Drink olive oil from a breaded filet
Put it back it's not our intent
Forget our wreck, not our health
What's our offering and our focus
It's challenging to continue writing
Writing only helps life be robust
Never serve songs while life is hiding
Running through traffic requires gust
Everyone's two tons in lanes are dividing
Rentals are found in the dock of the lot
One whole cotton's keys at the kiosk
Barely any exchange during the return
Hoping her buttery mind wouldn't churn
Think about exchanges in our neighborhood
Will eye contact spoil the mystery
You're welcoming analysis when it's made free
Catch and grab
Hold and squeeze
Romance from the mundane
Share and recommend
Then find where to wash our hands
Catch and grab
Hold and squeeze
Romance from the mundane
Recommend then share
Then find where to wash our hands
One whole cotton's back to her subbing gig
Her own four wheels now take her back
Becomes more a mast than it does a brig
Dig down her wellbeing a profitable frack
The gas of her breath gone like a winter twig
Public anxiety operates with no slack
Skin was shed when she was startled in the old car
Being behind the kiosk suggests a nightmare
Getting back keys strangers used before