Wicked at the walk the lines crooked crossing, the time wicked why I walk like a crooked clock, tick tock rewind the second hand of time. Second line dope cycle of your time’s wicked Rome’s its a marriage of the worded thrown.
It’s all how you condone, may you Rome with a stars swagger. Mick Jagger wicked tongue crooked lips, what a trip worded displays, too many ways take a single which way a worded one way street around, the grandfather of time for farther in circles of words cycled with wickedness, now work on lines with wickid sways neither of which wickedness sways. All to many wicked ways wacky words a preacher prays, it a marriage of Sires’s words of groom’s comb while a honey moon’s continue divorcing of wicked times throughout wickedness in time if you’re mind’s wicked.
Fire burns now what wicked earns, now mends and bends…