I've often dreamt of a conversation that just keeps coming up again and again. we're sitting in the baby bar bereft at a shadowy
table out past the sentences end from until it's no longer fun to that's no longer relevant from until we're no longer one to the
bona-fide embodiment of an endless emergency without end we're an endless emergency without end
We often stop in these conversations, things we say here stay here forever amen when everything seems either funny or lousy,
funny or lousy, that's where it usually ends from until we're no longer fun to that's no longer relevant from until we're no
longer one to that's no longer permanent from the last survivors of those terms to the bona-fide embodiment of an endless
emergency without end we're an endless emergency without end we're an endless emergency without end,
But your finger starts to wiggle and landscapes emerge