The Art Of Rolling Poem by Pierre Rausch

I'm the mood, I wanna scroll' my turn cow low
I'm in the mood, wanna roll my traffic
Sometimes I'm in the mood I wanna wrap a jam
But then again I said oh oh oh
|: The Art of Rolling in contest: |
An implement unimpressed
|: From the sot's prayer no good can e’er ensue: |
Unless the facts guard over excess
The fiend, that had to chose drunkenness
The Art of Rolling as entr’acte
E'er, that thou always strength may obtain,
Monstrous the prevent sin;
From all excess, throughout thy life, refrain
|: The Art of Rolling in strange delight: |
Without help, can ever leave lavatories:
The stallion, that in a boggy slough has
So neither lavatory, that's ever loaded
But still respect thee, by naught
Hallow thyself to daze,
Bought and then, thought to be brought
An antler shot, brow antler
A shot gun, call call down
Furtive book inlay; Recurrent urge
A Quartz - Pics of horror
A hundred and ten years old
Core image on flat-screen
That mounts another lorry pet
SWAT, the closure call
It's clearance and anything tendency