Friends, released on sound


By-pass play with clay. And then some. Debate it beyond bat. As are on to sort out cash care gone. More conference than seminar; adults included. Taken to boot, shaken to root in shying Indian summers. Since bay at birth, numerous if not numinous sounds have been permutated by having been inserted into concert halls and haggard calls. Each smell packed in muted comments acts as let be take be back to echo beach call close. Intervals are our main rivals scaled down to pace up and . . . no, not again. Hiding behind the pull of the page, black = blue and white = true. But are — as it does away with be — is no tune and or — as it snows left right and centre — no sooner breaks than hearts pursue more than one conglomerous dream in glutinous reams of recent read reasoned and seasoned texts teeming with time.