I started out as an oyster and now I am a clam. Oh how I deeply wish to really be a man. It all went South so early on, a thing I don't rrecall. So I kept on tripping on the stairs and invented a soft way to fall.
Then I learned to fly when I was asleep, over mountain, glade and street, except the knack to staying in the air, had I not so it was always a nightmare. Then I began to stitch and sew, lines and lines all in a row.
One, two three, where do I go when I am lonely? To a tree! To feel it's bark! Like a medecine. I'm a diviner, bring back magick and the olden days ways, because the rat racee is temporary in history.
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