There's a Fu who stretches your stomach and stares at your eyes.

Who weighs the cosmic ounces and catches the sprys.
Signed it, grind it.
Corroding and foreboding.
Corroding and foreboding.
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Rouses the hysterics with batches of cries.
Bounces off the rubbish getting you real high.
Rounds off the moments when you gave it a try.
There's a promise to break your thymus if you follow the sky.
Surf into anguish wowzers able to scry.
Corroding and foreboding.