purgatory flames marshmallows – tulip seeds pressed ornaments – panting clouds ruptured – and the sliced tunnel: trustless standing view of look its nose abiding a spinning top. golden lyre rightful possession of violet-haired muses deep-sounding thunderer of brandished spears your last hopping there see in exhaustion the hare a spinning top flaming. round they dance pink sugar roast brown spitting this is important spitting ornaments. sliced then distributed everyone gets a share refreshed a chewing gum! up up now if you run I can still catch the bus they see me pressing closer; as you turn the spit watering lemon cake irony.