the noise the pain the underoccuring stain

"she wasn't even in the shower yet, her hair was standing up... hahahahahahahaha ha," said the loudest gaffawster among the caffeinading crowd... surging voices, plucking strings, hackle, sounds of me me me, not nor neither, try and reconsider the suching for search sweet sarrows, oh, the mix of bliss and blasphemy - such a heady combination such a heated pause,,, "you play, and i'll lead the cords. Here," said the grandpa to his notso grandson't. they speak of him now with tongues plucking like peeling pickled sugar beats. whatever that means.