The breathless extension of moreover invention. The man with the plan, getting kicked in the can. The blood on your brow that you shed with the plough, seeding fields of rakes.
The more you know, the less you see, but all I want is sympathy. Talking to me out a mouth of soap but mono i mono has lost all hope. Now you step without a walk. Now you speak without a talk. But, shut your eyes now girl.
You ruled the world with bits of string to make the servants and the people sing from dancing ninny upon a pin to the strong of limb and mighty wind that cracks upon the silver snow. The more you see, the less you know.