The colourful prick in multicoloured trousers.
And so it is, just like I knew it would be. I'm still smelling of... well... colours.
Colours always fade me. Bright colours make the grass less green, dark colours make the night disappear. The world is built up of all diffrerent-coloured pricks; some colours simply don't do well with one another, some do extremely well.
Back on base I could smell only sangria red. Maybe a little sapphire, as I was starring at an unfamilliar green-eyed monster in the mirror and an immaterial blade pierced my lungs. The emotional state was gray. Once again my own colours had faded. Once more would I have to walk through the valley of shade, and tread an unusually achromatic path.
1- Your colour is Midnight.
2- Your colour is Sangeria.
3- Your colour is Russet.
4- Your colour is Puce.
5- Your colour is Arsenic.
6- Your colour is Tangerine .
7- And yours is Baby blue.
But I, I am and remain insubstantial; I don't really have a colour.
Colours always fade me. Bright colours make the grass less green, dark colours make the night disappear. The world is built up of all diffrerent-coloured pricks; some colours simply don't do well with one another, some do extremely well.
Back on base I could smell only sangria red. Maybe a little sapphire, as I was starring at an unfamilliar green-eyed monster in the mirror and an immaterial blade pierced my lungs. The emotional state was gray. Once again my own colours had faded. Once more would I have to walk through the valley of shade, and tread an unusually achromatic path.
1- Your colour is Midnight.
2- Your colour is Sangeria.
3- Your colour is Russet.
4- Your colour is Puce.
5- Your colour is Arsenic.
6- Your colour is Tangerine .
7- And yours is Baby blue.
But I, I am and remain insubstantial; I don't really have a colour.
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