and she asked you what you were on - the kindly farmer accused young gunter of being a junkie - poor pitiful poet you - and in the wandering his eyes bled blue - and in his eyes through you it was called first communion - as the gramophone played all assembled slendered down to a hush like puppies - a quarter was flipped the only word that formed from this was "oh!" - there are satellites over tijuana - in her japanese sleep she asked her lucky stars "what will become of us?" - a lizard creeps haunting the grandfather clock beheaded with bowler fixed on - and in the soil what hands will sprout up all soul to slap you - a costa rican carnation dotting the map of his suit - dissemble me please i've got a target here on my t-shirt all teasy - drink sleep for it will save you
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