The wind is blowing , weary backbone , sing somewhere the bird of winter embraces .
I will not forget you , you won't forget me , for together say thank you to those who extricate us, we the umbrellas of the liturgy exit not to fall into the bottom of the basin , inhaling cooking smells half goat cheese half cabbage half fig half fig playing colin maillard from one nostril to the other .
It is permissible to say that even in trolling weather the handle stands in trust to Charlie's hands, David, Ahmed but that a burst of Kalashnikov can erase , ridiculous masquerade , dark coming of terrors that the filthy beast challenges smoky nostrils the gaping crotch engulfing in the depths of the entrails we soft irresponsabilités .
It's time to marry towards each other in the blue of our folds , to dress up in smiles the passage of the officiants on the gravel driveway scrolling with counted steps to the sacred place , beauty , amour , shared peace, beyond the numinous , in the incandescence of transparency .
