Risotto on an island of hope.

I wish I could make all the outfits I dream up. I’d be wearing a black pant suit tonight and we would build ice cream towers to reach the sky. You run me over senseless, I’m the white lines and you're swerving like a drunk.

There’s an over flow tonight and she stashed some of hers away. It’s a secret though. Don’t tell. I’m closing shop. We’re making risotto on an island of hope and I’m dancing on fairy floss, kind of fast. I dreamed of bouncing through the clouds, but slower - I’ve seen them from air planes lots.

So she’s killing the dead over and over and she thinks it’s funny and she’s laughing. We know the real story. That girl is crazy as a lark on crack but she sings just like a bird.