the corpuscles are coming, hand in hand,
down memory lane, they stretch andbflirt,
no longer diadems
but crawling out of solitary confinement. bent hats cocked crookedly
on their prismatic heads
the corpuscles are coming, hand in hand,
down memory lane, they stretch andbflirt,
no longer diadems
but crawling out of solitary confinement. bent hats cocked crookedly
on their prismatic heads