1
Three days and three nights and takes Angel trying to compose a song. It will be a melodic song that they proposed to include in a compilation album to a record company on anonymous musicians. It said it was the custom of his life.
It was the third day that a gang of construction workers reforming the lower house next door portal. The echo of the blows of the chisel and the radial echoed against the concrete at a good rhythm. Noise regaled his ears with a sort of urban rhapsody, tireless, steadfast. They are the sounds for a living. The agreement reached by the builders was to collect by matching the time spent. Well, ale!, Piecework. So work hard, day and night, crews. PUUNNKKTTOK
... ... ... PUUNNKKTTOK .. RRRRUUUUUU PUUNNKKTTOK GGGGGRRRUUUGG .... ... ... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGGgggggggg PUUNNKKTTOK.
Angel had aired their protests strongly. But everything was useless. Nor had achieved his longed melody or the appropriate letter, only made an amalgam of colors where the notes were arguing among themselves, and always ended the same way ... ... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRU UUGG ¡¡... PUUNNKKTTOK ...!! ... ...... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGG RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRR.
He discovers the black crow whistling through your window sill, very good they are. Go
. These moments are eight in the evening of the third day. The noises of the work ceased.
"Yes, I can not believe, have stopped these suckers, do you have died?". Angel
just drank the last bottle of whiskey Dyc. He believes that a good operator should have a black legend, very black. It's what you have instilled improve yourself 'biographies rockers. He only has as its cheap bottle legend.
A black legend should have it any good operator and must be tormented. "In addition, due to burn the soul, from time to time." Drag
three days of drinking black legend, complete with amphetamines, moving all types of food.
But the sounds have ceased, and the artist will take action. He will succeed. He will create unprecedented ballad that will make you famous. And his guitar and his songs will grow like weeds among the grass sound for all those who have been spared. Will find out. Ja!
Now, Angel grabs the bottle of Dyc and kisses her ass. Remember that operator with black legend that he remembered the ill-treatment in childhood schizophrenic songwriting, and from that one who used his childhood memories to create songs of love. And remember that the Count of Monte Cristo, who returned from the hells angel in the form of gray to delight in his revenge. And remember the bricklayers. Squeals of joy to see that there is no noise. Midge.
And finally, he remembers his electric guitar and its future. He enters his
special spacecraft settles her ass on the stool and turn the amp, all close at hand. The letter should try something kind and encouraging, at par. That's enough to criticize society. A tender song hope you have to open first, and second should dismay. But the message should be soft. Besides flowers, also in the world contamination. It is the look of each of which focuses on the issue at all times. Want the lyrics and melody are timeless and have no time. As this theory of good and evil that humanity carries with and against each other. It is eternal, not forward or backward. We are in the same place as Plato and Aristotle. We have made some progress with respect to the demiurge, but the line between good and evil is where I was. Tireless. Angel has found the issue and it is going to play. Why, yes it is going to play. A ballad type track forward consciousness of good and evil. One area where the flowers and chlorine pools shake hands to end up with a delicious guitar riffs, while all instruments give way to an expression for a white child, when you hear it, kiss a black girl. Jo. Indefatigable. Already
eleven at night and have to take the model home in the early hours of the morning without delay. He thinks he has the idea, motivation, and the guts to face it, everyone, and time. Must do so successfully for your ego back up and running properly. Cree is a time to be an artist and creator. Has more than forty years and not been aware of this, among so many parties and musical accompaniments, jumping from group to group and from bed to bed. And from bar to bar.
lacks the appropriate technology to build their superbalada. But if the model like and engaging theme, the end will surprise. He promised that the would use.
Now, everything after will be a good musician. Surrounding the few things he needed, and forgetting all those who are not. No more wasting time. If you get this song, sense of well that will open a door exquisite creativity that will lead to the garden of musical notes. Where poets fall in love with music nymphs. Hands. The first four notes
graceful exit. The rod and spoil, and derides him first to trick the subconscious and bring up what he is claiming the conscious. Drunkenness will grow by the minute. Remembers an old song that he loved a young freckled. Think of the beauty that arises when fused flamenco with any type of rhythmic music. And the beating given him by his old man to catch him with his first joint. Midge. And in his mind grows a certainty that never wanted to admit. Now. He skipped two tears as two covers of cello and drops the world over, and then laughed wryly.
Any particular part of your black legend. And another long drink. In addition, the sound will last bar accompanied by some encouraging words: acércame that twig ...
So work hard, night and morning. Hands. RRRRUNNKKTTOK
... ... ... RRRRUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGG PUUNNKKTTOK PUUNNKKTTOK ... ...! UGGGGggggggggg! PUUNNKKTTOK ... ... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGG ...
NO! "How is it possible?" The devil removes the pot. Farewell to the twig. Kiss goodbye to the mud .... PUUNNKKTTOK PUUNNKKTTOK ... ... ... PUUNNKKTTOK RUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGG PUUNNKKTTOK ... ... ... PUUNNKKTTOK PUUNNKKTTOK RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGGG ... ... ... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGG
RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGGPUUNNKKTTOK Again!
twelve o'clock at night in the very moment that Angel strikes his guitar against the floor, alienated by the lack of foodstuff. Marcan
the 0:05 when approaching to the lower house, to negotiate with the builders, wild and altered blood.
The 0:10, when a dark witch goes flying, and tells Angel to hear that insult to the masons, and listening fatigue alienated by the intellectual and wields a fluted neck.
The 0:15, when the evil witch laughing leaves, leaving Angel bowed before the two workers who are sick and tired angry drunk. Angel considered a parasite of society. Not like them, always working so hard. We replicated
insults the artist, under threat bloody aggressor.
The 0:30 am. Now, Angel kicks a newly plastered wall and throws and throws them a few expletives, with thick white saliva on his lips.
Masons go crazy to think that working malospelos not understand, if not understand that life left currando all hours for the pay is decent, and sometimes do not get paid.
And the right hand of the devil, who is also drunk, act quickly and Angel makes bump him in the chest closest to the mason and it falls over some demolition materials and key in the back by a corrugated iron . Then the other partner, feeling only consolation, shocking the musician's head with a shovel, and batters him again with all his might.
The black crow is removed with a direct flight and faced witch.
Angel falls to the ground with a gap in the temple of twelve inches, and brain mass in the field leaves him, spreading the floor.
The mason was attacked and ends up Angel enraged by a kick in the forehead. And the creativity of the artist leaves the body for rats to feast .... PUUNNKKTTOK ... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGGG ... .. PUUNNKKTTOK RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGG PUUNNKKTTOK ... ... ... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGGggggg PUUNNKKTTOK ... Angel
march to another world with a horrible noise in his head.
2
For a time talk about a rocker with some black legend who fell out the window when he went to feed a cat, or was to smoke a joint? No, he committed suicide in a fit of anxiety.
Some kids who start playing, neighbors near the event, said he faced three rapists and robbed a girl of fourteen from his clutches.
But that old lady who always defended the builders said that he was caught stealing to prick a drug dose. And the builders
think, to the extent that alcohol made them, I was crazy. That they came over and they thought they would die. The recorder
angel is the first words of his custom ballad, punctuated with tears of blood.
A former bowling partner and wanted to put the epitaph on his grave. And the epitaph might well begin with: I am a dove
oil ...
Three days and three nights and takes Angel trying to compose a song. It will be a melodic song that they proposed to include in a compilation album to a record company on anonymous musicians. It said it was the custom of his life.
It was the third day that a gang of construction workers reforming the lower house next door portal. The echo of the blows of the chisel and the radial echoed against the concrete at a good rhythm. Noise regaled his ears with a sort of urban rhapsody, tireless, steadfast. They are the sounds for a living. The agreement reached by the builders was to collect by matching the time spent. Well, ale!, Piecework. So work hard, day and night, crews. PUUNNKKTTOK
... ... ... PUUNNKKTTOK .. RRRRUUUUUU PUUNNKKTTOK GGGGGRRRUUUGG .... ... ... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGGgggggggg PUUNNKKTTOK.
Angel had aired their protests strongly. But everything was useless. Nor had achieved his longed melody or the appropriate letter, only made an amalgam of colors where the notes were arguing among themselves, and always ended the same way ... ... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRU UUGG ¡¡... PUUNNKKTTOK ...!! ... ...... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGG RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRR.
He discovers the black crow whistling through your window sill, very good they are. Go
. These moments are eight in the evening of the third day. The noises of the work ceased.
"Yes, I can not believe, have stopped these suckers, do you have died?". Angel
just drank the last bottle of whiskey Dyc. He believes that a good operator should have a black legend, very black. It's what you have instilled improve yourself 'biographies rockers. He only has as its cheap bottle legend.
A black legend should have it any good operator and must be tormented. "In addition, due to burn the soul, from time to time." Drag
three days of drinking black legend, complete with amphetamines, moving all types of food.
But the sounds have ceased, and the artist will take action. He will succeed. He will create unprecedented ballad that will make you famous. And his guitar and his songs will grow like weeds among the grass sound for all those who have been spared. Will find out. Ja!
Now, Angel grabs the bottle of Dyc and kisses her ass. Remember that operator with black legend that he remembered the ill-treatment in childhood schizophrenic songwriting, and from that one who used his childhood memories to create songs of love. And remember that the Count of Monte Cristo, who returned from the hells angel in the form of gray to delight in his revenge. And remember the bricklayers. Squeals of joy to see that there is no noise. Midge.
And finally, he remembers his electric guitar and its future. He enters his
special spacecraft settles her ass on the stool and turn the amp, all close at hand. The letter should try something kind and encouraging, at par. That's enough to criticize society. A tender song hope you have to open first, and second should dismay. But the message should be soft. Besides flowers, also in the world contamination. It is the look of each of which focuses on the issue at all times. Want the lyrics and melody are timeless and have no time. As this theory of good and evil that humanity carries with and against each other. It is eternal, not forward or backward. We are in the same place as Plato and Aristotle. We have made some progress with respect to the demiurge, but the line between good and evil is where I was. Tireless. Angel has found the issue and it is going to play. Why, yes it is going to play. A ballad type track forward consciousness of good and evil. One area where the flowers and chlorine pools shake hands to end up with a delicious guitar riffs, while all instruments give way to an expression for a white child, when you hear it, kiss a black girl. Jo. Indefatigable. Already
eleven at night and have to take the model home in the early hours of the morning without delay. He thinks he has the idea, motivation, and the guts to face it, everyone, and time. Must do so successfully for your ego back up and running properly. Cree is a time to be an artist and creator. Has more than forty years and not been aware of this, among so many parties and musical accompaniments, jumping from group to group and from bed to bed. And from bar to bar.
lacks the appropriate technology to build their superbalada. But if the model like and engaging theme, the end will surprise. He promised that the would use.
Now, everything after will be a good musician. Surrounding the few things he needed, and forgetting all those who are not. No more wasting time. If you get this song, sense of well that will open a door exquisite creativity that will lead to the garden of musical notes. Where poets fall in love with music nymphs. Hands. The first four notes
graceful exit. The rod and spoil, and derides him first to trick the subconscious and bring up what he is claiming the conscious. Drunkenness will grow by the minute. Remembers an old song that he loved a young freckled. Think of the beauty that arises when fused flamenco with any type of rhythmic music. And the beating given him by his old man to catch him with his first joint. Midge. And in his mind grows a certainty that never wanted to admit. Now. He skipped two tears as two covers of cello and drops the world over, and then laughed wryly.
Any particular part of your black legend. And another long drink. In addition, the sound will last bar accompanied by some encouraging words: acércame that twig ...
So work hard, night and morning. Hands. RRRRUNNKKTTOK
... ... ... RRRRUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGG PUUNNKKTTOK PUUNNKKTTOK ... ...! UGGGGggggggggg! PUUNNKKTTOK ... ... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGG ...
NO! "How is it possible?" The devil removes the pot. Farewell to the twig. Kiss goodbye to the mud .... PUUNNKKTTOK PUUNNKKTTOK ... ... ... PUUNNKKTTOK RUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGG PUUNNKKTTOK ... ... ... PUUNNKKTTOK PUUNNKKTTOK RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGGG ... ... ... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGG
RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGGPUUNNKKTTOK Again!
twelve o'clock at night in the very moment that Angel strikes his guitar against the floor, alienated by the lack of foodstuff. Marcan
the 0:05 when approaching to the lower house, to negotiate with the builders, wild and altered blood.
The 0:10, when a dark witch goes flying, and tells Angel to hear that insult to the masons, and listening fatigue alienated by the intellectual and wields a fluted neck.
The 0:15, when the evil witch laughing leaves, leaving Angel bowed before the two workers who are sick and tired angry drunk. Angel considered a parasite of society. Not like them, always working so hard. We replicated
insults the artist, under threat bloody aggressor.
The 0:30 am. Now, Angel kicks a newly plastered wall and throws and throws them a few expletives, with thick white saliva on his lips.
Masons go crazy to think that working malospelos not understand, if not understand that life left currando all hours for the pay is decent, and sometimes do not get paid.
And the right hand of the devil, who is also drunk, act quickly and Angel makes bump him in the chest closest to the mason and it falls over some demolition materials and key in the back by a corrugated iron . Then the other partner, feeling only consolation, shocking the musician's head with a shovel, and batters him again with all his might.
The black crow is removed with a direct flight and faced witch.
Angel falls to the ground with a gap in the temple of twelve inches, and brain mass in the field leaves him, spreading the floor.
The mason was attacked and ends up Angel enraged by a kick in the forehead. And the creativity of the artist leaves the body for rats to feast .... PUUNNKKTTOK ... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGGG ... .. PUUNNKKTTOK RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGG PUUNNKKTTOK ... ... ... RRRRUUUUUUGGGGGRRRUUUGGggggg PUUNNKKTTOK ... Angel
march to another world with a horrible noise in his head.
2
For a time talk about a rocker with some black legend who fell out the window when he went to feed a cat, or was to smoke a joint? No, he committed suicide in a fit of anxiety.
Some kids who start playing, neighbors near the event, said he faced three rapists and robbed a girl of fourteen from his clutches.
But that old lady who always defended the builders said that he was caught stealing to prick a drug dose. And the builders
think, to the extent that alcohol made them, I was crazy. That they came over and they thought they would die. The recorder
angel is the first words of his custom ballad, punctuated with tears of blood.
A former bowling partner and wanted to put the epitaph on his grave. And the epitaph might well begin with: I am a dove
oil ...
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