the baby bones the wheels you can hear their tears unfortunate attacks, avalon turning black to everything i blame that high tv detail soaking sights of city lights surrender still
can we stand still? the ghost wants he and everything stands naked in the memory of time and space locality the rooting beans of anarchy
like the poem, like the poem like the poem, i, the poem am the poem, am the bohème like the poem, poem, poem like the pinky, pinky poem i'm the poem, i'm the poem i is properly spelled as follows: