Liar, liar, pants on fire, grab the telephone wire and rig that phone call then you say: girl power- half, full, and\or blue; romantic kiss and hug, but she read it in Cosmopolitan, or pornography as flagilance is passed. Only the yogurt she ate, with an orange. Room for chocolate bar, and that one thing. The one she drinks, sips, or eats. Moon turns to longing again, as day comes by sun. Here he lays, knowing yesterday has passed with an lactobacillus acidophilus.