folsom was just coming in. jackson, in his studio recognised the slam and nipped the needle out of his arm.
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unique citizenship realized and spiced higher essence that pales only before the sun of the cadence of speech. caffeine linguist. having carefully edited sect tone with line which extends to the separate reels, he was about to play thee of them;is supplike all the other recorder and stepped back from the tator of the pelvis. it escapes a fevered voice croaking its gibberish then fought it down…
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we have to leave, that much is for certain. whether it’s part of the great plan or not, this island is terminal – so rat.
[after a mysterious tip (origin unknown) and finding myself rummaging around a dusty junkshop on an island within the ring-o-fire, i finally came across the material i had long suspected to exist – the true function of the Holy Grail.]
