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turning ever after in the echo of evil laughter you would find the ways of the newest fancy craze.

then you find the lower one the one that speaks in wretched tounge finding slovenly betrayal all that makes the world.

and in that final gesture note you find the funniest of boat the place that all of us will go into the darkness we will throw.

And then you wish you had no more the furriest full of landlides that you missed again the wickedest of sin.


never again you swore to that evilest of whore the one that finds the end of days the grandest of the grayest haze.

tote the soul into the shadows all of it and then you laugh.