Some days are for consolidation
some days are for transformation
You cannot hide your vestigial tail
your belly is pot
your jelly is hot
stumped cut off salamander trail
I am the secretary of my sensations
my magic is my weakness
you must invite me across your threshold
It's pretty uh hardcore
only four miles from your house
say it's semi mediaeval, but
great stuff for the launch pad, and
something about the bleakness, the
overbearing concrete structures
Some of the evenings may require consolation
some of those nights end in devastation
Lies are exotic, and the truth
the truth is pretty basic
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