Whilst staring at a young lad uttering some words in his mouth, I could make he’s in a lip-sync with some sort of derogatory music. Cute he may be, little of it he may understand out of the words, but…
On the lively cutting edge, Of the strain bearing stone. On the lovely foaming touch, Of the strong-hearted cloud, Sharing a common formality, Of one being immortal. The one deployed along, The action that went so long, The clear and…