Ladder the day with the good Well of depth to the Tell of measure on the pit,
a standing of stock to the power of Crate the understanding of dimensional,
on the falls of fill to the tablets of Writ in a storage of last to the burst,
in amongst the character of grass a trip down Up is verse to the track,
bridle for the origin tack for the show Arena is humanity the Watch is a Go.
On the stitch of the stout is muscle with a tempo beating touch the drum lens,
blink of yes to counter stride a ride makes for cadence at the trotting post,
iron on that shorter Stirrup is the jump leprechaun clover for the strict of a rice.
The Wave of decomposed granite to the height of a Universe sweeping on the galaxy to dip twiced,
know drink is not the sands as the filters are the language of communication to the sky,
movement on the Cosmos at the shake of earth quakes shale stars on a shift banging,
imagine on the subject a match of nature kite risen by an operation cleaning system sights,
no black hole to sink the raise is of a tight in score of the ocean people fill a slight.
Their in the front of chokers the trip be have to side a hole with a bottom filling,
body upon body the squish of flesh to still piles on the piles creating human clogs,
than a bridge to more for the Human Beings just shore the walking on to the other across,
again the hole in vertical long enough no go around the push is shove to spilling in.
Behind the pressure of this gigantic scrub on dice taller than the vista roaming as a brig,
the peaks are no mountains the valley can not be just the straights of the course being at the see,
as the feet walk atop the mash of bones and skulls not one does stop to halt the flood of rushing tolds.
That produces further chaos the top go bottom pop with taken notice to that, the people will not rock,
now the jockey looks because the front is also death the waltz enhances footing work a caustic,
sticky for the brood a smell of stench undone walking body stations loose there killer boots.
Performance slows to speed of light the Sun greats the moon at stance darkness levels food,
spreading fire from this laps the base of stroke to galloped wrath a mind in mental abstract,
stricken more bye deplore the scene becomes the running cruels death is charging Fill,
like sandbags whole the body Toll rises beyond what can be seen the spoils strike the sound.
At that grace of moment faith the innocent hold reins to back this saddle of read frame,
in careful wait the front is heavy loaded with the burial of growing by the sliegh,
in dust the rose is microphone Wreath says flowers are the stone in pebbles that hang stew,
the track is nigh a slippery slide for on convergence energy the breath begins to blue.
Break knot gasp to balance branch task a thought to beneath the cliff of all the punch a past,
for as the Cosmic Machines these quakes the after shock is rock on rock a breathing maze banks brass,
breezing with a natural hide to knowing of familiar Slide the photo is of rump,
tone in work to key of quirk no reach for in the instant a Polaroid is shirt.
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