I live in a matrix where sometimes I shovel chit, although it’s cold till I heat it up.
The witch woman slipped her fresh but old snake shoes over her stockinged feet. The fresh but old snake skin shoes the colour of white carp and an astroid fallen from dark space, her stockings the colour of the flesh of a perfectly ripe avocado with white polka dots scattered brightly about. In the back ground a tune of a polish song of roll out the barrel, we'll have a barrel of a fun...and zing zing zing...
for the gangs all here
accordions, drums, tubas and more
The time to remove the goat from the star was about to be at the right hand. Under the shadow of the low ceiling of clouds while the sun shone across the wheat filled lands her wings did spread and off she took her snake bag in hand filled with pots and pans.
Be still and listen
One day I will tell you a story
The Witch woman scanned the waves saw none going her way so there she did make her own an uncommon clear river under a sea of deep matter.
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