Earthy hum dragging the kneels down. Slow wail from underwater bubble sanking from slow, legro grave tempo. R.I.P the undertaker still breathing fanfare. Weeds growing lurking melodic phrases from wet corpse compost.
In cracks below the pew atoms vibrate to the hum of matchbox molecules dancing to System Buzz. Mute lasting, mutalating abbey worries gardening, harvesting and utilising the black rose. Scaring the black crows with scarecrows. It stopped, looked around to find nothing left. The monastery gone, just chunks of aubergine sky at night. Spicy, starless, birdless flight. Clack, bank, mad, tickle, box, fuss, crazy, bastard turtle bus.
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There isn't anything wrong with these words!
There isn't anything wrong with these words!
There isn't anything wrong with these words!
There isn't anything wrong with these words!
There isn't anything wrong with these words!
There isn't anything wrong with these words!
There isn't anything wrong with these words!
There isn't anything wrong with these words!
There isn't anything wrong with these words!
There isn't anything wrong with these words!
