shamane Songtexte
(chef kiss)° i told my cartographer "no map is right!" (thank you)°
- skydivers that never get a massage
- you open up a can of pillsbury dough and inside of it is a postcard from a cake you made that's on vacation
- i dunk my helicopter rotors in the fondue moat now they're golden
- your cat totally uses your oculus rift when you go out
- the zamboni driver for the ice capades has a different dinner every night
- lipstick on your coffee cup, cacao fragment(s) (acronym) whirling wurlitzer, emulsion drawings; i whisked a toothpick to four saffron petals
- i'm old cheddar, i'm new cheddar!
- are there pools that want to be skate parks?
- my push present was four different ice skating rinks
- it's easier than trying to plane a pinball slope or playing pinball on a plane
- my fjord is an eskimo parfait flipped upside-down cake..blink twice we kiss with our noses, and turn canoes into tables..tables into sandals..mandals into mandalas..frisee into brunches..brunches into blumpkins..check out that blimp..
- the importance of being ernest goes to camp II
- filo dough papier-mâché, the baklava is a tornado
foralways
- micro seasons, sea salt sheets calligraphy toss themselves into the dinghy
- a basketball court below my above ground pool, the jacuzzi has gong luster, the leds are pinaa clear, you can see the pollen for four fog machines / liquid nitrogen ice cream parlors
- my ranch is four stories (it's just four ranches, one on top of another)
- raised by elk, mixed by hand, the cake sees a sponge; chortles, runs four laps
- rock wall sees mountain, trail of sheetrock crumbs
- a group of lighthouses together looking for another lighthouse
- you made a cake by sending each ingredient to one person
- the micro tones of your appliances, they love you, they're playing your songs all the time!
- liquid nitrogen ice cream parlors, where the flavor is how did you do that, ok!; can you imagine it like this: you're inside of an inflatable!
- the jet ski obtuse parabola, collapsible hits that fold sand, cold aluminium / hot coals / hold hand(le)s
- the lava fell out of the lake, atv flossed, the cup holder billows around four pints of whipped macramé; presents!
- my locket squees foil quarks / hinges for sonar / man buns frosted into spackled bouffants
- you went to a farm, found a pie on a windowsill, and put an oculus rift on it
- patio on the roof, vaulted ottoman deck, horizon lilt in a papier-mâché fortress
- we're just atvs, we're just brunchin', we're just coq au vin glamping
- onion ring in your fries, the waiter likes you!
- my falconer ellipses a cake, one henhouse at a time
- fishing with dynamite, the rock wall to the quarry
- so you wanna be a doula?
- breakfast in bed at night
Hyori
- welcome to Hyori's!
- infinite goddess - infinite muse
- Hyori!
- Hyori and the stream, pebble toss
- infinite goddess - infinite muse two
- are they from the countryside?
- the guests have arrived!
- they are polite bikers!
- rustled leaves on the winter ger (Hyori love song)
- she can even sauté abalone
- to love her (prelude)
- to love her
- it's snowing at Hyori's!
- in a bowl she puts the borrowed eggs
- Hyori dinner show!
- infinite goddess - infinite muse three
- Hyori ocean saunter, porridge for four
- can we braise the sea bream
- picking tangerines, juicing jelly beans
- infinite goddess - infinite muse four
Hyori Two - from the porch to the patio to the ger, from a whim to the love to her
- the forest through the roquefort, the sheep are bouillon gliding, visors for branches
- ranch tuxedos laid over balconies for satsuma cordials, felix unger cummerbunds
- the maître d' told the bride to be let's get the blue one, you'll stir porridge, the ger's gorgeous
- glutinous calgary ski cabins, cabanas and cantaloupe tapas foam
- the abalone like ping-pong tourneys, takeout tremendous like picnic pallets
- halibut cakes on the dashboard, every scuba diver has a garfield fern full of soufflé crumbs
- which tree foraged for us, the forest the brush, hazelnuts in my hair, the husky to mus
- the spoonbill dropped the baguette, we tapenade roast the cipollini fronds (when you spin in the snow you just know)
- cascading mascarpone fountain, mofongo custard, my poncho mustard
- luxembourg pulleys, posies poised on the pulpit
- a sprinter in a sprinter, a drop of huckleberry preserves, uni pastels like petals in motion
- incredible credenza etch, throw some rosemary in the colander, watch it turn canonical, into a sketch
- a snifter of makegeolli, ferment the rice like hot springs, the compost, lacoste beets
- the glockenspiel tangelo dressing, more mezzanines per acre than your hay loft dryer sheet starter course
- coat the arch like langoustines
- my moat grandiose, village huts like sorrel in a copper pan
- the view of the lake, the stew watch it skate, every banana blade, how we bake the bread
- the train runs on the sand, dial up any portable ornament, take a sea cow to the pâtisserie, she got four dozen bonbon tins, the entire way home flapped her fins
- with a whisk and a sprig of raw camelbert, speckled window seats like snowflakes landing on qr codes, like rustic gnocchi bears
- to take a walk, to take off, the driveway is a runway, some runoff, a run-on, we run off, pick fronds, pick ponds
- the abalone like ping-pong tourneys, takeout tremendous like picnic pallets - part two
