your mum

we are a murde- peaceful people, living in the mountains, guided by the breeze, and taught by the wind.

we sit on a rock, playing games all day, but poems, man i don't know what to say.

but monks we are not, for we are proud and free, to do what we want.

but it is the squirrels, that guide us and not the breeze or the bees.

we shall also, right, do all sorts of drugs, throughout the night, whether it be, weed, or coke, we do not care, aslong as it's not spoke.


so we may welcome you to our group, to live on mountains, you may recieve,right, an imaginary madalion.


we also praise bob marley