she used to be an american airline through hotels parallels of the far out moon still being watched by the pipe smoke contingent yeah from creameries extremeries and you won t leave soon she drives like an exodus slow to the steeple and her touch is sad the cold room is clean and it s distant from people but the bugs are bad she is alone never off to the races she is pulled by lumbering dogs being chased by beasts she drives like an exodus slow to the steeple and her touch is sad the cold room is clean and it s distant from people but the bugs are bad for the foodstuff of dreams clay rails melting like an earthman equator blobs of light ripped from spiraled ceilings and now there s no place to climb not a place tear it alive i am always inventor and i cry so suddenly and i laugh so loud and the cry is small and the cry is small and the cry is small and i laugh so loud