Recorders

Chain the Nose to War on the land in the Tank of the Grand on the canyons of span,

lost at the feet of the Foot place to week the colindor of drones remotes that go wrong,

dark goes the clock to the digits at walk at electrical spark the mark of the cart,

no address needed the Sun says blanket in the same as Exact to the partner the Moon.

On the sphere of the stream for the dogs and the seam rafters form sankers and clevers go hinge,

the double swung door no stop to the shore bringing the laughter as the World jokes soar,

that on the plains of the Sands in the drink disaster is sinking the towels on the pink,

reef to the ocean saddle to creek the fill in the gap is the quick in the Fact.

Charge to the battery in the dead plug oft brain barking the whoof Coyotes that shrill,

yap yap yap on the flux the wired in duck strands of the organ grate arson to sample,

out of the air in the heat of despair chapel the singer to dawn on the fare,

cryers that wine with the hards and the longs with no matter to cause just the chase of in laws.

Catch the rye in riper to pick as the aspen is swiss but the island is kick,

swinging the log junking the bog joking to sandal and suited to mangle,

cling on the wrap sticky and sap rattle the coins oh wait it's in change,

dollars to millions of which is it named the Noun or the bargain of victors & Mane.