(thurston). My nerves are buzzing and my heart is god. I think ... but I might be wrong. This goes to to the attic and buzz on the wall. But it's all right I don't care at all.
The elevator called me up. She said you better start making sense. The stone was bleeding, whirling in the waltz. I went to see her majesty. The court had no suspense.
Storms all that summer we lived in the wind, out in some room in the wind. Your hands they were folded you knew no demands. My tongue, it clattered like tin, my eyes repeat they take my seat.