(Lake) Lanier is a good fishing lake. Everybody tells me I put my dock on the best fishing hole in the lake. In fact, I've sat on the dock and caught a 12 pound bass. I saw another guy catch about a 40 pound and 26 pound striper one morning In front of my dock, and I used to catch a lot of 8 to 9 pound largemouth around it.
I worry that I'll go down to the dock, and that my ship will have already come and gone. I'll miss my boat." And we say, another boat, another boat, another boat. You have no idea how many boats are coming to your dock. It's a steady stream, and it doesn't matter how many of them you've missed.
Tucker was my safe place for three years, my secure dock in a sea of indecision as I dealt with my father's illness and death. And now I had to sink or swim. It was time to let go...and move on. Slowly, I pushed off from the dock that was Tucker Montgomery and prepared to swim...praying I wouldn't drown.
But never had he felt more enthralled than he was right now, sitting beside Evie on a weathered old dock, with a blazing afternoon sun, almost brutal in its clarity, bathing everything in pure light. Sweat trickled down his back and chest from the steamy heat, and his entire body pulsed with life. Even his fingertips throbbed. It took all of his formidable self-control to prevent himself from pushing her down on the dock and spreading her legs for his entry.
The ancient man approached God (or even the gods)as the accused person approaches his judge. For the modern man the roles are reversed. He is the judge: God is in the dock. He is quite a kindly judge: if God should have a reasonable defense for being the god who permits war, poverty, and disease, he is ready to listen to it. The trial may even end in God's acquittal. But the important thing is that Man is on the bench and God is in the dock.
C. S. Lewis
Very slowly using two fingers, Annabeth drew her dagger. Instead of dropping it, she tossed it as far as she could into the water. Octavian made a squeaking sound. "What was that for? I didn't say toss it! That could've been evidence. Or spoils of war!" Annabeth tried for a dumb-blonde smile, like: Oh, silly me. Nobody who knew her would have been fooled. But Octavian seemed to buy it. He huffed in exasperation. "You other two... " He pointed his blade a Hazel and Piper. "Put your weapons on the dock. No funny bus-" All around the Romans, Charleston Harbor erupted like a Las Vegas fountain putting on a show. When the wall of seawater subsided, the three Romans were in the bay, spluttering and frantically trying to stay afloat in their armor. Percy stood on the dock, holding Annabeth's dagger. "You dropped this, " he said, totally poker-faced.
Very slowly, using only two fingers, Annabeth drew her dagger. Instead of dropping it, she tossed it as far as she could into the water. Octavian made a squeaking sound. 'What was that for? I didn't say toss it! That could've been evidence. Or spoils of war!' Annabeth tried for a dumb-blonde smile, like: Oh, silly me. Nobody who knew her would have been fooled. But Octavian seemed to buy it. He huffed in exasperation. 'You other two... ' He pointed his blade at Hazel and Piper. 'Put your weapons on the dock. No funny bus-' All around the Romans, Charleston Harbor erupted like a Las Vegas fountain putting on a show. When the wall of seawater subsided, the three Romans were in the bay, spluttering and frantically trying to stay afloat in their armor. Percy stood on the dock, holding Annabeth's dagger. 'You dropped this, ' he said, totally poker-faced. Annabeth threw her arms around him. 'I love you!' 'Guys, ' Hazel interrupted. She had a little smile on her face. 'We need to hurry.
He rolled his eyes and took my hand. His hand was hard and calloused, tough with muscle and old scars. The night settled around us like a blanket. I could hear the water lapping against the dock. We were totally alone. 'You're... , ' he began, and I waited, heart throbbing in my throat. 'Such a pain, ' he concluded. 'What?' I asked, just as his head swooped in and his mouth touched mine. I tried to speak, but one of Fang's hands held the back of my head, and he kept his lips pressed against me, kissing me softly but with a Fanglike determination. Oh, jeez, I thought distractedly. Jeez, this is Fang, and me, and... Fang tilted his head to kiss me more deeply, and I felt totally lightheaded. Then I remembered to breathe through my nose, and the fog cleared a tiny bit. Somehow we were pressed together, Fang's arms around me now, sliding under my wings, his hands flat against my back. It was incredible. I loved it. I loved him. It was a total disaster. Gasping, I pulled back. 'I, uh-, ' I began oh so coherently, and then I jumped up, almost knocking him over, and raced down the dock. I took off, flying fast, like a rocket.
I cling to the idea that Herman Melville had to work at the end of his career watching ships in a dock, as a shipping agent in New York. Any writer who thinks they should be given patronage because of their gift... you don't have to look too far in history to see that's just not the case.
Oh, God, " Lori said without looking at me, "what are they thinking, leaving the two of us alone out here on the dock together? We might TALK or something." "That would be awful, " I said. "I might give you a hickey." She laughed, still watching for Cameron's start instead of looking at me. "Just by talking to me?" "I can talk really dirty. You'd be surprised.
Companies selling a product play down its vulnerability and emphasize its robustness. But only after technology leaves the dock is it really tested. For human operators in control of a supposedly infallible system, complacency and overconfidence can take over, and caution may be thrown to the wind.
Anyway, members of the Inquisitorial Squad do have the power to dock points so, Granger, I'll have five from you for being rude about our new Headmistress. Macmillan, five for contradicting me. Five because I don't like you, Potter. Weasley, your shirt's untucked, so I'll have another five for that. Oh yeah, I forgot, you're a Mudblood, Granger, so ten off for that.
J. K. Rowling
I brought you out here because I wanted to share a sunrise with you, and maybe even a sunset. I wanted to see how much I could kiss you between now and the time we dock tomorrow. And if I was really lucky, I was hoping I could lie with you until you fell asleep, until I couldn't stay awake anymore. And in the morning, we'd wake up, and we'd be together, just like this.
Maybe you're getting into the rhythm of sailing life," says James. He looks out at the waves that are rolling in to lap against the dock. "You know, the tides going in and then out, the wind blowing east and then west, the high of a perfect day out on the water, the low of a thunderstorm or a wind that won't go your way.
Maybe you're getting into the rhythm of sailing life, " says James. He looks out at the waves that are rolling in to lap against the dock. "You know, the tides going in and then out, the wind blowing east and then west, the high of a perfect day out on the water, the low of a thunderstorm or a wind that won't go your way.
Melissa C. Walker
I had studied Irish history. I had read speeches from the dock. I had tried to fuse the vivid past of my nation with the lost spaces of my childhood. I had learned the battles, the ballads, the defeats. It never occurred to me that eventually the power and insistence of a national tradition would offer me only a new way of not belonging.
God makes it all come right in the end, that's what Johnnie told Dock Barker just before we parted company. I was raised a Christian-I admit I fell away a bit along my journey-and I believe that: we're stuck with what we have, but that's all right; in God's eyes, none of us are really much more than flies on strings and all that matters is how much sunshine you can spread along the way.
He had never been interested in stories at any age, and had never quite understood the basic concept. He'd never read a work of fiction all the way through. He did remember, as a small boy, being really annoyed at the depiction of Hickory Dickory Dock in a rag book of nursery rhymes because the clock in the drawing was completely wrong for the period.
God has not been trying an experiment on my faith or love in order to find out their quality. He knew it already. It was I who didn't. In this trial He makes us occupy the dock, the witness box, and the bench all at once. He always knew that my temple was a house of cards. His only way of making me realize the fact was to knock it down.
C. S. Lewis
Observations," he says. "Four imperial Unseelie guards were the only commonality I was able to isolate endemic to both scenes." They'd been standing, armed, at the dock doors, overseeing the delivery. He gives me a sidewise look. "Wow. That was, like, a whole sentence. With nouns and verbs and connective tissue. Endemic. Fancy word.
Karen Marie Moning
Freedom is not a reward or a decoration that you toast in champagne. On the contrary, it's hard graft and a long-distance run, all alone, very exhausting. Alone in a dreary room, alone in the dock before the judges, and alone to make up your mind, before yourself and before the judgement of others. At the end of every freedom there is a sentence, which is why freedom is too heavy to bear.
Cassandra wondered at the mind's cruel ability to toss up flecks of the past. Why, as she neared her life's end, her grandmother's head should ring with the voices of people long since gone. Was it always this way? Did those with passage booked on death's silent ship always scan the dock for faces of the long-departed?
We shook hands. For a moment our eyes met - which I found surprisingly destabilizing. Then we pulled back and there was a mement of what seemed like mutual appraisal. For me, it was like being at a regatta, sizing up the competition on the dock before climbing into the shells. Could I take him? ... He could inflict serious damage. I sensed that. But he would be unfamiliar with rowers - men used to toiling backwards, blindly, trained, most of all, to endure.
Anti-Semitic publications have existed in Germany for centuries. A book I had, written by Dr. Martin Luther, was, for instance, confiscated. Dr. Martin Luther would very probably sit in my place in the defendants' dock today, if this book had been taken into consideration by the prosecution.
I wanted to scream as I stood there, my toes hanging over the edge of the dock. I wanted to let a gut-wrenching howl rip from my disfigured throat toward those clouded skies. I wanted to say every swear word my mother had ever taught me not to say. I would have settled for a cut-off whimper, just as long as some kind of sound came from my lips.
Both Mitt and I have summer places up in New Hampshire on Lake Winnipesaukee. And a few summers ago I was taking my grandchildren and children to town in the boat for ice cream ... And I realized there was nobody in the boat to help me dock the boat, handle the ropes, do anything ... And I looked up and there was Mitt Romney. So he pulled me in, he tied up the boat for me. He rescued me just as he's going to rescue this great country.
J. W. "Bill" Marriott
She couldn't read his expression. As he started toward her, she recalled the way he'd seemed to glide through the sand the first time she'd ever seen him; she remembered their kiss on the boat dock the night of his sister's wedding. And she heard again the words she'd said to him on the day they'd said good-bye. She was besieged by a storm of conflicting emotions-desire, regret, longing, fear, grief, love. There was so much to say, yet what could they really begin to say in this awkward setting and with so much time already passed?
She couldn't read his expression. As he started toward her, she recalled the way he'd seemed to glide through the sand the first time she'd ever seen him; she remembered their kiss on the boat dock the night of his sister's wedding. And she heard again the words she'd said to him on the day they'd said good-bye. She was besieged by a storm of conflicting emotions""desire, regret, longing, fear, grief, love. There was so much to say, yet what could they really begin to say in this awkward setting and with so much time already passed?
The first thing I did when I got inside was turn on the kitchen light. Then I moved to the table, putting my dad's iPod on the speaker dock, and a Bob Dylan song came on, the notes familiar. I went into the living room, hitting the switch there, then down the hallway to my room, where I did the same. It was amazing what a little noise and brightness could do to a house and a life, how much the smallest bit of each could change everything. After all these years of just passing through, I was beginning to finally feel at home.
If zoos are like arks, then rare animals are like passengers on a voyage of the damned, never to find a port that will let them dock or a land in which they can live in peace. The real solution, of course, is to preserve the wild nature that created these animals and has the power to sustain them. But if it is really true that we are inevitably moving towards a world in which mountain gorillas can survive only in zoos, then we must ask whether it is really better for them to live in artificial environments of our design than not to be born at all.
I'm not the one who kissed you in the bathroom. In case you're thinking I forgot about that, or somehow missed it, or ... ' 'Kind of hard to miss, ' Ian agreed. 'Your lips, mine. A distinct smacking sound. Yup, that was me kissing you. Still, it was short-quickly over and done. A kiss good-bye. The subtext was I hope we don't die, but if we do, it was nice meeting you. Not at all like that under-the-dock kiss.' He paused. 'The one where you jumped me. The first time. So far.' He narrowed his eyes at her, much the way she'd done to him. 'Naturally I'm suspicious. Did you intentionally leave my clothes behind?
Hickory dickory dock my daddy's nuts from shell shock. Humpty dumpty thought he was wise till gas came along and burned out his eyes. A dillar a dollar a ten o clock scholar blow off his legs and then watch him holler. Rockaby baby in the tree top don't stop a bomb or you'll probably flop. Now I lay me down to sleep my bombproof cellars good and deep but if I'm killed before I wake remember god its for your sake amen.
Despite popular belief to the contrary, there is absolutely no power in intention. The seagull may intend to fly away, may decide to do so, may talk with the other seagulls about how wonderful it is to fly, but until the seagull flaps his wings and takes to the air, he is still on the dock. There's no difference between that gull and all the others. Likewise, there is no difference in the person who intends to do things differently and the one who never thinks about it in the first place. Have you ever considered how often we judge ourselves by our intentions while we judge others by their actions? Yet intention without action is an insult to those who expect the best from you.
I haven't a clue about the biology or the psychology involved when a person dissolves into tears, but it is quite fascinating to note what turns them on. There are wives who can cascade over a late husband or a burned dinner, and equally pour tears of joy over a new bonnet or a renovated bathroom.... A while ago I took a ship back from Europe. Amid the tumbling confetti ... I found myself misty-eyed watching a young lady waving a tearful farewell to her boyfriend on the dock. I couldn't figure out if I was crying at her plight, or in delight that he wasn't coming along with us.
Exploration! Exploring the past! We students in the camps seminar considered ourselves radical explorers. We tore open the windows and let in the air, the wind that finally whirled away the dust that society had permitted to settle over the horrors of the past. We made sure people could see. And we placed no reliance on legal scholarship. It was evident to us that there had to be convictions. It was just as evident as conviction of this or that camp guard or police enforcer was only the prelude. The generation that had been served by the guards and enforcers, or had done nothing to stop them, or had not banished them from its midst as it could have done after 1945, was in the dock, and we explored it, subjected it to trial by daylight, and condemned it to shame.
LETS TAKE IT BACK TO THE MEGADRIVE SUPER NINTENDO GOT TERRORISED I REMEMBER WHEN YOUR WRIST GOT PARALYSED I WAS PLAYING HEAT JUMPED OFF OF THE SLIDE I GOT IT ALL MEMORISED COS THESE ARE MY MEMORIES AND IM TELLIN IT GUYS TELL 'EM GRIND IMA TELL 'EM WHY WE SHOULD TELL EM BOUT NOW IN THE PRESENT TIME THESE ARE BETTER TIMES NOW EVERY DAY YOUT MANS GETTING PRESENT TIME COMMITED SEVERAL CRIMES STOOD UP IN THE DOCK GAVE THE JUDGE A DEVIL SMILE TWO TYPES OF NIGGAS YOU CAN SELL OR BUY MERKED THE RAP GAME COS WE PUSHED THE LEVELS HIGH NIGGAS BETTER START TELLING GUYS AINT NO SNITCHING ROUND HERE YOU CAN TELL AND DIE
I stood on the old ferry dock and watched the icy sludge slide by. Patches of white ice slipped through, but mostly it was grey slush, sluggish and heavy looking. The air was sharp and clear, one of the few benefits of the evacuation and reducing temperature, the centuries-old odour of industry and modern life frozen and discarded, leaving a crispness previously only found among the peaks of mountain ranges. On the far bank stood the ruins of Birkenhead, where the riots had been particularly bad and the fires that followed were allowed to rage out of control. It had taken weeks for the conflagration to finally die, leaving behind soot-blackened husks of buildings, grotesque sculptures of melted glass and metal and more dead than anyone ever cared to count.
aint no snitches riden wit us, old modely mouth niggas can hide in the front, cant no loose slips get on my yaught, i leave playa hatas at the dock, watch! and a nigga help you burn the block, and as soon as you get hot nigga turn the gock, setting up federal appointments now, nigga all in court, brain out, daddy not know what hes doin his child, we gonna mail em his finger when he get out yeah, juss to show em what we's about, never let shit about g's leave ya mouth, yeah, me and zach cant leave ya house, two dounut lovers to police ya house, i sneak pass those brothers, sneak in ya house, and put the heat right dead in ya mouth so shutup
But Gemma, you could change the world." "That should take far more than my power, " I say. "True. But change needn't happen all at once. It can be small gestures." "Moments. Do you understand?" He's looking at me differently now, though I cannot say how. I only know I need to look away... We pass by the pools, where the mud larks sift. And for only a few seconds, I let the magic loose again. "Oi! By all the saints!" a boy cries from the river. "Gone off the dock?" an old woman calls. The mud larks break into cackles. "'S not a rock!" he shouts. He races out of the fog, cradling something in his palm. Curiosity gets the better of the others. They crowd about trying to see. In his palm is a smattering of rubies. "We're rich mates! It's a hot bath and a full belly for every one of us!" Kartik eyes me suspiciously. "That was a strange stroke of good fortune." "Yes it was." "I don't suppose that was your doing." "I'm not sure I don't know what you mean, " I say. And that is how change happens. One gesture. One person. One moment at a time.
He was walking around in circles, the smell of the old furniture suddenly very distinct. There was a newspaper in his hand and he started reading it, paying particular attention to the headlines which seemed to be floating towards him so that now a band of black print encircled his forehead. He was curled upon the bed, hugging his knees, when the next horror came upon him: those who heard him last night would now have to report his theft, and his employer would call the police. He saw how the policeman took the telephone call at the station; how his name and address were spoken out loud; how he looked down at the floor as they led him away; how he was in the dock, forced to answer questions about himself, and now he was in a cell and had lost control of his own body. He was staring out of the window at the passing clouds when it occurred to him that he should write to his employer, explaining his drunkenness and confessing that he invented the story of theft; but who would believe him? It was always said that in drink there was truth, and perhaps it was true that he was a convicted thief. He began to sing, One fine day in the middle of the night, Two dead men got up to fight and then he knew what was meant by madness.
MOUSE TRAPS FOR THE RATS IN THE DOPE HOUSE THE FIENDS COMING AND THEM BOYS GIVING DOPE OUT THEY SELLING COCAINE JUST TO GET A DOCK HOUSE MONEY MAKE THE WORLD GO ROUND CAN'T GO THE BROKE ROUTE WHEN JACK BOYS COME TO K WITH THE SCOPE OUT YOUR CHICKS GET DOPE DICK AND GIVE DOPE MOUTH I'M ALLERGIC TO FAKE NIGGAS YEAH THAT'S NO DOUBT I'M ALLERGIC TO FAKE NIGGAS YEAH THAT'S NO DOUBT I'M ALLERGIC TO BROKE NIGGAS YEAH THAT'S NO DOUBT AND SOON AS YOU CAME DAMN I SNEEZED THEN I BROKE OUT DROP THE TOP AND LET MY GIRL HAIR BLOW IN THE WIND HAIL MARY FOR THIS PAPER, I'M LIVING IN SIN FATHER FORGIVE ME BUT I NEED THEM 40 ACRES AND A BEACH HOUSE IN JAMAICA AND SOME FLOOTSIES FOR THE LAKERS SEE YOUR GIRL SHE GOT THAT FIRE BUT MY GIRL GOT THAT RIHANNA SHE WILL HAVE YOU NIGGAS OUCHEA THROWING BOTTLES
Well this wasn't Vegas, and this wasn't Disneyland, this was 'Erotica- The Theme Park - featuring Femdom World, Slave World, Bondage World, Spanking World - and so much more!' -according to the brochure Jillian and Rebecca handed me with great fanfare the next day. -This is a beautiful brochure, I said - very- -Glossy , said Rebecca. -Right, I studied it some more - so is this... I mean - legal? I mean, is it for real? -O yes, they said. -Well. Wow, I guess. -Wow is right, they said. Jillian had been on some trip with one of her many very rich and very ugly men friends, and they had shown her the place. (no she didn't say to what extent she was 'shown' the place. She was very tight lipped about it, -wanted everything to be a surprise, she said) To be aware of Erotica-The Theme Park, and its Hotel Ecstasy you need money, connections, and more. In fact you need at least a 100 ft yacht to dock at its private Marina. And no I can't tell you where it is, otherwise they will revoke my membership pass and kill my first born. But let's say - it's on an island, with warm water , pure white sand beaches, it's for the very rich, and it's not far , by private helicopter from certain well known islands in let's say, the Caribbean.
THE BARROW In this high field strewn with stones I walk by a green mound, Its edges sheared by the plough. Crumbs of animal bone Lie smashed and scattered round Under the clover leaves And slivers of flint seem to grow Like white leaves among green. In the wind, the chestnut heaves Where a man's grave has been. Whatever the barrow held Once, has been taken away: A hollow of nettles and dock Lies at the centre, filled With rain from a sky so grey It reflects nothing at all. I poke in the crumbled rock For something they left behind But after that funeral There is nothing at all to find. On the map in front of me The gothic letters pick out Dozens of tombs like this, Breached, plundered, left empty, No fragments littered about Of a dead and buried race In the margins of histories. No fragments: these splintered bones Construct no human face, These stones are simply stones. In museums their urns lie Behind glass, and their shaped flints Are labelled like butterflies. All that they did was die, And all that has happened since Means nothing to this place. Above long clouds, the skies Turn to a brilliant red And show in the water's face One living, and not these dead." - Anthony Thwaite, from The Owl In The Tree
KILLAZ REFLECT THE DESTINY OF THE VILLAGE SO WHEN 20 COUNT REGRETS FLOAT DOWN FUTILITY SPILLAGE SEE I'LL PASS THE BROKEN ARROW THIS TIME FOR CERTAIN YEA BUT FROM HERE ON OUT ITS HOOF THE MARE THE BARE FOOTED URCHIN DIG IT IN PERSON NOW EXHIBIT TRUE AUDACITY AND PASSIVELY HACK GREASE INTO RIBBONS YOUR EXCUSED FROM THE ROUNDTABLE ADMISSIONS COMMITTEE ACTIVIST LEGENDS TURNED HOSTAGE IN FALLEN CITIES DIRTY EARTHLINGS CIRCLING VISION IMMACULATE SPIN ME DIZZY IN A CROSSWALK MY TOO FAR GONE MASTODON SENSES INSPECT RELENTLESS FOR FITTED BOOGIE SYSTEMS AND CROOK ADDICTIONS WELL SURE MY CROWN IS FORMED OF THORNS YEA BUT MY THORNS ARE FORMED OF SOUND AND I HAVE FOUND SOUND WILL KEEP ME WARM WHEN THE MORNINGS BORN WITH FROZEN GROUND PUT A ROPE DOWN PULL ME FROM WHERE THE BUZZARDS CLEARED I MEAN FROM THE BONES YOU AND YOUR LITTLE BADASS MAD MAX MUSKETEERS WHEN THE SILHOETTES OF EMACIATED FRAMES DANCE ON A HIGHWIRE MISTOOK FOR ASPIRING THIRD WORLD POSTER CHILDREN BUT IS INSERTED GHOST WITH DEALIN DEAD TO ADMINISTER LINKS LIKE CHIEF THEN WHATS YOUR FORTE DEVIL DRAGGER IN DISGUISE SEEKING THE MATCH MADE IN YOUR EYES FRIEND IT DON'T TAKE THE WISE THIS MINUTE TRIPLICATE PACE UNIFIED I DON'T CONDONE THE BLASPHEMY NATURALLY ITS PROCREATION FROM THE FLOODS, TO THE FIRES, TO THE DROUGHTS, TO THE CYCLONES TIDAL WAVES, THE TWISTERS, TORNADOES, AND HELL STONES WHIRLWINDS, TROPICAL STORMS, BLIZZARDS AND MONSOONS ALL OF WHICH I WITNESSED PRIOR TO WAKING UP INSIDE MY ROOM LOOK AT THE CROOK AS I PANIC EPISODE TANTRUMS FUCK HUGGING MY COOL THE EDGINESS READIES THE MOCK KNOCK QUICK DRAW HENCE THE DUEL THE COMPANY OF SIMILARS COULDN'T EXCITE THE MOTOR BUT HERMIT CRAB ACE HOME ALONE-UH ONE BARREL OF IDIOMS AND CHARCOAL STICK, COURAGE UNDER DESIRE CANOPY DRAPED BEAUTIFUL MESSIAH RELUCTANT STUCK IN THE PLUCK IN THE HAUL BUZZING THE FUZZING TELEVISON MIXER BOOK OF SATURATED MATCHES AND A HALF-MADE BED PICK OF THE LITTER, LITTER OF THE PICK PACK LEADER WILL HUFF CANNIBAL FUMES, MECHANICAL ZOOM THERE'S AMPLE ROOM STOWAWAYS INSIDE THE CARGO BED SAID LEECH PRIOR TO FIRING UP HIS BARNACLE MAGNET INSTINCTS LEASHING HIMSELF TO WHERE THE WIND SPLITTING ICE STORMS AND TERMITE SWARMS ARE COMMONPLACE I'M A TRACE THIS SILVER LINING WINDING ROUND THE PROFIT CHASE I KNOW THERE IS GOOD IN YOU IF ONE PEELS BACK THE OPULENCE BUT I ALSO KNOW ITS RATIO THE BAD DON'T FEED MY CONFIDENCE THE NUTRIENTS WILL BE INTENSE CIRCLE THE CLUES UNITS OF SUCCESS BEING PERSONAL THEN SUCKED BASIC DIVERSION RUSTY ANCHOR BUDGET FOR NOTHING WEDGED BETWEEN AESOP ROCK AND A SCARRED FACE OF FRUSTRATED FUCK YOUS BOUND BY CONCERN I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M STILL CONCERNED I CAN'T BELIEVE SIDE CHILDREN TURN IN THEIR SLEEP OVER ONE-LINERS WELL I YIELD TO HEAR YOUR BURNS COLOR ME OUT OF MY SKULL DRAGGIN A WAGON OF CREATURE FEATURES AND ALL I EVER WANTED WAS TO AGGRAVATE THE SLEEPERS LOOK SELF-CRAFTED HEROICS MURDER WORTHLESS CRASH TEST IDEOLOGIES, CATALOG ALIEN DOCTRINES TYPE DISTURBANCE GOT EM OUT, KILLING MACHINES TURN BELLY UP BUCKLED, THE TROUBLES I'VE SEEN COAX TWENTY FOUR SEVENS OF WIDE EYES FROM DAY DREAMERS CLEAN OR DIRTY SERPENTS IN TURN WISH PREFERENCE FOR THE LATTER JUSTIFIED THE GERMS BURN CAUTERIZE THE GASHES AFTER ON MY LEFT, ONE FINGER FOR EACH BURROUGH I CAN TOUCH ON MY RIGHT, ONE FINGER FOR EACH TIME THAT I WAKE UP MIDSUMMER NIGHT WHO'S CLOAKED IN A PRISTINE MANTLE OF HELLFIRE BUT A-CAPITAL GLACIERS OUT THE EAST SLIDE LATERAL BORN FOR ONE TASK INDEED TO SPOIL THE CITIZEN KANE EMOTE SELF THIS UGLY DUCKLING SEED LOOK I AINT TOO ATTIRED OF DRAGGIN THE BAGGAGE OVER THE SEASAW SEEDS WHEN THE REAPERS TURNS MORTALS TO CASPERS SEE THE PLAIN AND STONE CONJURABLE CAN'T MIMMICK THE NULL OF A BILLION TROOPS HOLDING MATCHSTICKS TO EMPTY CANNONS STAND OF A MANY MOONS WHEN THE SUN HIT THE MOUNTAINSIDE SPLENDIDLY BASK IN THE LAST WARMTH THAT BE KNOWN TO MAN'S TANGENTS IN THE WINK OF AN INNOCENT STARCHILD'S EYELID DROP HE VANISHED MANAGED TO CARVE INITIALS IN THE GRANITE WALL THE DAMNED IT ALL UP I HUNG WITH CATS THAT DO THE DONTS CATS THAT FORAGE THROUGH THE MOATS HOPING THEY OPEN WITH SOVERIEGNTY AND A CANTINE DEEMED WITH PRODIGIES I LOVE THE WAKE, THE WATCH, THE WALK, THE WORK THE WELL ITS ALMOST SIX O'CLOCK I'VE NEVER SEEN SO MANY TUGBOATS MISS THE DOCK