`Do you mean the attack is routine?` a bird asked of a bird `In this context, a concave nest, how do we learn to hurt?`
`do you mean there`s no variation?` watching a dog charge a flock of birds exploding in congregation "Why plan when` when we stop?"
`I dunno...but why suppose it`s not the way it should be? when you can fly above the great waiting list, as the grow inplies we won`t be missed, we can leave we can leave we can leave.
It`s a routine flight for this bird tonight there`s more worms than earth in the afterlife where the blind feed the blind, whispering things like; `On the money` and `Bullseye` she picks up the little leaves where human wrecks are left to seed left to repaint their deities and plaster away at their villainies where there`s love there`s hope
`and do you hope those earthbound poets could learn to sing as good as us? so we can sit back and enjoy our illusions and our quietus?`
`Well I don`t now...but why suppose it`s not the way it should be? when you can squawk and wait for word from above and change yourself into something you love when you leave when you leave you leave?
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