Rider's roost seduced with the juice Asleep on benches Nine of a kind, a nowhere mind in open trenches In a five walled room sooner swoons With cloudy clout In a gravity well the tattle tells what it's all about
I am what you ain't March in the saints Climbing a moonbeam Wound's still deep Climbing a moonbeam Monsoon swells deep
Time divides faultless lines Digging a hole where seismic slides False starts heartless be stilling Purity's finally free from distilling Shanghai surprise same old gun shy