The fake smiles laughing, walking, through the muse's drunken five-o-clock banter,
Somewhere there is the light of the mystic river shining through all this metallic rubber, within the soul there is the moulded fountain of a forgotten yesterday,
I saw her name yesterday smeared on the beach floor, it was open to interpretation, the fur on my cap coming into a bridge-like shape,
My pear-shaped heart looks like a mirror with three faces, three kings frown somewhere in the gloomland of Mt. Hinterland...
