it’s a dozen flowers a dozen eggs a dozen months and perhaps a dozen reasons i could come up with to justify why why i love you and why i love making fun of you… also laughing with you and specially laughing at you…. a dozen may not be enough after all but most people
I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type…
That made a cool pattern :)
The baker was a simple fellow. An unbridled and unburdened mind made his work go easy in the long Summer days, and in Winter he was the merriest of them all. So, when the butcher decided to pay a visit (for he rarely did), the baker paid him all the respect and treated him with all the jovial nature that was his camp.
“Three dozen eggs, sir.”
“Thank you, Lily. How much?”
“Only 25 cents per egg.”
He handed her the money.
“May I ask you a question sir? Why do you need so many?”
“I have twelve kids, Lily.”
“Oh! I had no idea!”
I had a dozen of eggs in my bag when this happened. Car hit me straight to my legs. My whole life appeared in front of my eyes, flashes of the best moments like in some shitty US movie, but then I realised that i’m safe. RC car luckily won’t kill me.
over dreams and sources of rainbows
oven heat the weather
mothers’ everthing’s don’t pretend
we transcend heaven
when the rubber hits the soil
when the soul hits the road
to reflection and my mirror is yours
you reach out to wipe away the cold condensation
where contemplation paralyzes fear
realize the games we’ve played have been swell
“a dozen roses please,” said the man. He was tall with broad shoulders, rustic and very, very attractive or at least to Suze since she leaned in towards me and raised her eyebrows while say, “cute isn’t he? that woman getting the roses is lucky duck.” for which my reaction was an exaggerated eye roll. “thank you.” he said and turned towards the door.
after Suze finally made her mind on what chocolates to get for Derek, (assorted) and what shape the box was, (heart, totally expected, though taking 10minutes to choose was not) we walked back to my car and there on windshield, under one of the wipers was a single rose and inside was the rest of what Suze counted up to be a dozen.
The dozen apples sit in front of me. I must pick one. There’s a one in twelve chance that the one I choose won’t be poisoned, the other eleven are. There are different types of apples, some red, some green, some yellow. I choose the one yellow one. As I take a bite out of it I can tell it was the wrong one, this one will cause me pain and misery.
I have a dozen eggs in the refrigerator… Then again… I bet a lot of people are writing about that… There’s a dozen or more terrible people at my school. I want to hit them in the face with a shovel… Really hard… Like… REALLY.. Hard…
Ms. Tavet wasn’t exactly what you would called beautiful. She was rather rotund and her teeth were arranged in a crooked manner, and were browning after years of use. Her cheeks were bright red and blemished with uneven freckles, and her perhaps once blonde hair had now a dull grey sheen in its roots. Her apron was always splattered with the the remnants of her freshly baked sugar cookies or pastries, and her hands never empty of a hot tray of a dozen or so treats. She wasn’t beautiful at all really. But she was warm, she was bright. Her chocolate eyes shone on every person that came in through those glass doors. She made them feel special. She made them feel beautiful.
A dozen, so good, so great. A dozen donuts, a dozen eggs, a dozen roses, a dozen. But what about that one that gets left out? A dozen girlfriends (plus that one who got away). A dozen parties (and that one you didn’t get invited to). A dozen heartaches (plus that one that mended them all).
a dozen of eggs for you for me
i get 9 you get 3 we’ll bake a cake for you and me
a dozen of eggs from the market up stream
many cakes we will cook
using mothers old cooking book
a dozen cakes with a dozen of eggs
you’ll sleep tight, the thought of sweets in your head
it’s a dozen flowers a dozen eggs a dozen months and perhaps a dozen reasons i could come up with to justify why why i love you and why i love making fun of you… also laughing with you and specially laughing at you…. a dozen may not be enough after all but most people
A dozen red roses on my doorstep. No card. Though I didn’t need one. I knew who they were from. My heart froze. He’d found me. Again.
merhabalar
I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type… I don’t know what to type…
That made a cool pattern :)
The baker was a simple fellow. An unbridled and unburdened mind made his work go easy in the long Summer days, and in Winter he was the merriest of them all. So, when the butcher decided to pay a visit (for he rarely did), the baker paid him all the respect and treated him with all the jovial nature that was his camp.
“Three dozen eggs, sir.”
“Thank you, Lily. How much?”
“Only 25 cents per egg.”
He handed her the money.
“May I ask you a question sir? Why do you need so many?”
“I have twelve kids, Lily.”
“Oh! I had no idea!”
I had a dozen of eggs in my bag when this happened. Car hit me straight to my legs. My whole life appeared in front of my eyes, flashes of the best moments like in some shitty US movie, but then I realised that i’m safe. RC car luckily won’t kill me.
over dreams and sources of rainbows
oven heat the weather
mothers’ everthing’s don’t pretend
we transcend heaven
when the rubber hits the soil
when the soul hits the road
to reflection and my mirror is yours
you reach out to wipe away the cold condensation
where contemplation paralyzes fear
realize the games we’ve played have been swell
“a dozen roses please,” said the man. He was tall with broad shoulders, rustic and very, very attractive or at least to Suze since she leaned in towards me and raised her eyebrows while say, “cute isn’t he? that woman getting the roses is lucky duck.” for which my reaction was an exaggerated eye roll. “thank you.” he said and turned towards the door.
after Suze finally made her mind on what chocolates to get for Derek, (assorted) and what shape the box was, (heart, totally expected, though taking 10minutes to choose was not) we walked back to my car and there on windshield, under one of the wipers was a single rose and inside was the rest of what Suze counted up to be a dozen.
The dozen apples sit in front of me. I must pick one. There’s a one in twelve chance that the one I choose won’t be poisoned, the other eleven are. There are different types of apples, some red, some green, some yellow. I choose the one yellow one. As I take a bite out of it I can tell it was the wrong one, this one will cause me pain and misery.
I have a dozen eggs in the refrigerator… Then again… I bet a lot of people are writing about that… There’s a dozen or more terrible people at my school. I want to hit them in the face with a shovel… Really hard… Like… REALLY.. Hard…
Ms. Tavet wasn’t exactly what you would called beautiful. She was rather rotund and her teeth were arranged in a crooked manner, and were browning after years of use. Her cheeks were bright red and blemished with uneven freckles, and her perhaps once blonde hair had now a dull grey sheen in its roots. Her apron was always splattered with the the remnants of her freshly baked sugar cookies or pastries, and her hands never empty of a hot tray of a dozen or so treats. She wasn’t beautiful at all really. But she was warm, she was bright. Her chocolate eyes shone on every person that came in through those glass doors. She made them feel special. She made them feel beautiful.
A dozen, so good, so great. A dozen donuts, a dozen eggs, a dozen roses, a dozen. But what about that one that gets left out? A dozen girlfriends (plus that one who got away). A dozen parties (and that one you didn’t get invited to). A dozen heartaches (plus that one that mended them all).
a dozen of eggs for you for me
i get 9 you get 3 we’ll bake a cake for you and me
a dozen of eggs from the market up stream
many cakes we will cook
using mothers old cooking book
a dozen cakes with a dozen of eggs
you’ll sleep tight, the thought of sweets in your head