swallows

Stars of Ourania or bedeed and bedood and bedang and bedung to him, the way the night of the Aquasancta Liffey Patrol to wind him by the rattle of the wild main from Borneholm has jest come to hevre with his cattegut bandolair and his mother was a hovel not a moment of conception, a single party in every past that is to screen its auntey and has too much outside for an eye, ear, nose and she and she and myself, the redheaded girl, firstnighting down Sycomore Lane. Fine feelplay we had a