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Now You’re Turning Slightly Brown

Adjustment in the spinal nerve, that reaches to the brain in emotive state. And in that state, fierce elephants of republic stand on weak toes. Our country is only a name. And it comes across as savage, to let the children so. But in these times, quarrels reach the window, doffing.

We are like people in the way we talk, and like trying to calm as we elicit explosion. We can't be normal, plain folk as we are. We are planes of folk, studied in dull times. We are the effect of plain folk on the adaptive stack of afflictive. Cancel as we speak, speak as we cancel.

The trip spells only moist layers of words left to their own divine. We haven't got the sentence structure to effect. We are reasonable but not reasons. We are on the plane but not plain.

And in this invidious swirling position, please. Please is a syndrome, please is a wealth. We stand to please by standard, we set a sentence down, on paper. Paper is a sin. We have nothing to say, and are saying it promptly, like Republicans. As children we were brothers and/or sisters. As adults we are managed care. Space station and relic party. Relax, sisters, brothers, in our down time. I am writing home. The picture remains in space.

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