The Tree That Grew Inside

Haunting words of relish dangle inches from the door, and even though I love the price of Hamsters I will never hire two on a Thursday, the jingling and clanging of marshmallows can be heard for days around, surely with this umbrella I could cook for Captains and Industry. My words used to mean nothing before the Internet shot me up, no paragraphs without sentences can guarantee nothing more. The chance to bet on Gophers and to hang the right way down can never be distinguished between three rocks and a soft place. Know that nothing's clever nor that ticks mean somethings right. My Trees they grow in lounges and still I cannot smile