Frogs spit out, I had a tongue in my eye. The ripple is peninsular, smooth and flickering light. Walked down to the faraway, where good things grow. Flickering, flickering, beats and beats, mawks like crazy not afraid of pie. Shadowing down we walk into an interview, two fielding sitting above the carousel I’n an feyling, “broke the transistor Sammy” I tell him once, twice, I tell him again. Eke some nerve, eke some ferrum, it wasn’t paid i’n a day you know.