Queens chew these, flinging the red and white sunrise

Through the entrance of a society of lineal wrongers.

For the operation of a mistier vinegar,

In the brutal awakening of an angel, she wakes.

From spiritual skies, the inaccessible blue

For the man raving on the terrace like a squid. Again we suffer

How he shoves into this evening a goofier, more dour wardrobe.

So cheer the diesel, it is best to be lucid and purr.

Sure the smoke and debris from these stupid orgies

Weighs like a ton on your memory. And in the clearing, the roses and the chairman

Make a mess in front of your eyes, getting bigger and more electrifying to no end.

Only blacken the flame in those buggies

Which always conquer your weighty phantoms. Sell barley

To as many of the splendid in this immortal society!