Rider's roost seduced with the juice
Asleep on benches
Nine of a kind, a nowhere mind
in open trenches
In a five walled room sooner swoons
With cloudy clout
In a gravity well the tattle
tells what it's all about
I am what you ain't
March in the saints
Climbing a moonbeam
Wound's still deep
Climbing a moonbeam
Monsoon swells deep
Time divides faultless lines
Digging a hole where seismic slides
False starts heartless be stilling
Purity's finally free from distilling
Shanghai surprise same old gun shy