Glaciers move,
But blinking is not enought to see them.
Here comes the perfect storm,
Halfway down the spine the perfect itch.
Patience, my friend, and so on
All things must pass etc.
Slime moves slowly to obliterate the ditch.
Life is tralala and foolish,
Half effort, a third deep breathing,
Happiness is not always always rich.
Fantasies abound but so as well Big Macs,
Faith can heal, faith can drive bananas,
And lime might take forever
To rot the the useless corpses...
When the retching stops
It might all and all be better
If you snitch.
