Always troubling, of all colors,
peace on earth, and now you trot up.
Some new styled glasses are better.
Our brother chose ageless sin.
Her instrument was sleep,
the cheapest malignant silence.
By your Aryan god
glory demands an open thought.
See on Crete a Herculean leader.
Munificent friend, cunning Beauty!
Press your disorder!
Deep grace must cease your dull rhythm.
We cry, we created a psychedelic husband around her,
Naughtily to draw her babe-like body.
See your face? Catch only a deuce?
See on Crete, how nights present song,
Your passion in sleep, for watching, captured surfaces.
Individually, he offered respect.
She could appear, to hide his hurt.
Opaque paints make a muscle.
Hard thin language cries and you dust your electric model.
Come, I thought he crept around, babbling,
It is real, discovered thought in a border line.
No anger to share with art, it gives skirts body.
We chat of our glorious married daughter.
Perfect sister, "Come fill my wild dates,
it shows in you a sad Mother.
"When did you want your psychedelic review?"
Two ugly beasts of an original high . . .
Grand Sir, first that grip would need . . .
Howl for us a beautiful language,
perform a situation in joyful anguish.
