Imp

Catch more flies with honey,
‘less it’s shit that you propose,
And ya think that the stink
won’t offend your up-turned nose,
But the sting of your japes
can’t repel their counter blows,
‘Cause there’s sour in your grapes
when you realize no one knows…

Imp,
Its not as simple as all that.
Your chip on the shoulder
Makes you smaller than your stature.

Catch more flies with honey,
Ignore the shit that they suppose.
If ya think then you’ll just sink,
Darkened, sullen, and morose.
Everything is golden,
Right as rain, and so it goes.
Leave the grapes to fermentation,
recognize that no one knows…

And so it goes…
On and on…

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About dialectetus

You can't look twice at the same profile... eh it works for streams. Do the same electrons remain trapped in the same place in the same server until I change this profile? I would think not, but I'm no physicist. If so, I feel bad for those little particle men. Words are spells. One spells words. At least, that's what they tell me...
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Go ahead...talk smack...trolls.

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