When the gypsy read my palm, She traced down some line's crease, As it splintered and divided, And then looked me in the eyes:
"Your future is a bell curve, which the same as hers and his and hers and if you do not stress it it will not swerve. It will remain but a bell curve with a singular ring, nothing more than a ding. Whereas if you attempt to hold it back, blockading its track it's timbre won't crack, just course into a cauldron whose call drones a cacophony of strings"
And so I looked her in her eyes and to her earthen surprise I said: "Yes, yet you sit in this seat and live through others' lives then take your pennies to the teller to calculate the size. Another seer who's a eunuch and every eunuch lies. What's the other option for a bosom that denies?"
"I see you point. I understand" she said still holding my hand. And thus I anointed Lady Jesus with my oils from the sand.