you spin me right round baby right round, like a record baby, right round round rnoud.
dont know the rest of the words!lalalalalalalala man dressed as woman. beep
As she spun around the office chair she couldn’t help but drift off. Spinning, spinning, spinning at a slow, leisurely pace her mind wandered, and she couldn’t help but have on thought float and drift about in her mind: her job at the office was very unclear as to what she was supposed to do. What else was there to do but drift?
Up down all around. You spin me spin me round and round. Like a ride that is fun, you spin me spin me til I’m spun. You are my only one.
Spin me spin me up and down, round and round. Spin me spin me til I’m spun.
I spun a tale for you to believe, to believe in me. Then I realized that what I had spun held nothing of me so how can I unspun what I spun and still have you believe.
He spins. They stare. The dance floor is a cobweb of bodies and cheesy music, young people posing and grinding against each other and then posing some more. vanity mixed with alcohol, juvenile profanity in its purest form. And so he turns away from them, turns around and around until the turn is a spin and he lets them stare.
She spun me right round, right round. That sounded lame. What song is that from again? Maybe Savage Garden. I don’t recall. What I do recall is how spun and senseless she made me feel way back when.
you spin me right round baby right round, like a record baby, right round round rnoud.
dont know the rest of the words!lalalalalalalala man dressed as woman. beep
As she spun around the office chair she couldn’t help but drift off. Spinning, spinning, spinning at a slow, leisurely pace her mind wandered, and she couldn’t help but have on thought float and drift about in her mind: her job at the office was very unclear as to what she was supposed to do. What else was there to do but drift?
Up down all around. You spin me spin me round and round. Like a ride that is fun, you spin me spin me til I’m spun. You are my only one.
Spin me spin me up and down, round and round. Spin me spin me til I’m spun.
I spun a tale for you to believe, to believe in me. Then I realized that what I had spun held nothing of me so how can I unspun what I spun and still have you believe.
He spins. They stare. The dance floor is a cobweb of bodies and cheesy music, young people posing and grinding against each other and then posing some more. vanity mixed with alcohol, juvenile profanity in its purest form. And so he turns away from them, turns around and around until the turn is a spin and he lets them stare.
you’ve literally spun me out of control, and I’m needing to find solace in such a notion. I miss you. I need you. I love you. come back.
I spun out of control as I was barreling down the road amassing more inertia than the flimsy low budget brake pads could handle.
Today I span around in rectangles. It’s not easy being a brick.
She spun me right round, right round. That sounded lame. What song is that from again? Maybe Savage Garden. I don’t recall. What I do recall is how spun and senseless she made me feel way back when.