Beyond The Cosmos as Sanity Exits Through the Back Door

The labyrinth of trees sing ever so softly the chorus line of I hope I get. Heads roll. Do not trust your bath mats they are stealing your semen. Across the room a fat man stares into your pecs, brushing his long wavy hair as it glows in the sunlight. He seductively beckons you to come closer. Lets gyrate around the clock tonight tonight we're gonna gyrate around the clock tonight. A large man approaches you and hands you a pack of canned farts saying only these words: North Dakota... , bitch I love you. Folding across the sea I AM THE LIZARD KING, I DO AS I PLEASE. I delved in the loose buttocks of gyration. I come across the land of the land of the people of the fanny pack. Eldward the Mr. mojo risin'. Embroider the steel metric ass ton of America! Beseech shoving up the bum and splish splish splishing. Gypsy seahorse wearing purple rainbow pants stylin' and profilin'.

May Desmond enter you always.