Sean Bonney Remix
A clean blade with magnetic wildwood scum. Wierded weird the final host of the brain slop. We don’t know who, anyway, eclipsed, the final host. A soul net. Oh, pretty, petty, this police system of knowledge. Performed an alien nation with bobs of sound with splintered power, disconnected for not paying the bills. Queen derivative magic and private particular magic. Without entirely sufficient numbers the hyena in a pretty frock is sheared. We’ll meet in hell. Tricking the passerby with official verse culture there are no words for sky, lobsters on their backs. Ok police computer, split the little knots of yr language and expose town and country.