Sirrah,
Twenty one, twenty three, me and you, you and me. The Sky. The Sea. The clouds are loud, and in a crowd. Dead house. And now for the shipping forecast, before we join the weird surface. Kidney stream. Bint. On a tripod, a glove. Wash the glove, bacon. Annex the coast t’ toaster. Wish it down with tea from’t china c’up. Had Pentangle on, now it’s a Platipus comp. (vol. 3). Iffy, iffy, let’s get squiffy. Put it yon side of temptation. Cider sensation. And now… Moo, belch, of course, it’s, (phonetic equivalent of), (speeded-up, farted-out, slowed-down), Meditive. U Wot? Fish issues, percolate. Horlics horticulture. * Mr. Gall. (The). Yo-Ho. The oven is on, ready for the bread, and maybe a fish-cake if you are lucky.… Read more