Hey, and now bring me that ladder
As I descend into the bland peppermill
All corns black, with shrunken visage
A crystal glass cracks under the wooden crutch

She walks in the rain, palms direct a flume
Deluge in saccharine amputees, firelight trivia
Storms opened in the swirl of bourbon
A centurion pointed, the thundercloud advances

And as the umbrella detached from the Rolex
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