No History

I'm telling you there's no history.

Everything I do is a mystery.

Wit-ally I'm sitting gidd-ally, digitally written by the trinity.

I'm spitting synergy, bitten by the inner me. Rather the inner being.

I'm doomed to be repeating my room.

Seating to be seeking the zoom by eating magic mushrooms.

As I'm repeating tactics to be touching the One's shoes.

I'm leaving my tongue; clues.

I'm greeting the Son's views, but he's deceiving my lung. *Whoo*