Tranny grand velvet. 

When you trying too digest 

The wet Whistle Cathode ray tube

and all you get is megalithic 

mania at the tranny grand 

Looking for the lucky velvet 

Crouching pouch nickel 

Pinching stuck in a machine 

crashing in on belle and the mob

traveling down windswept 

scenes of world music halls 

vanity mirrors of angry 

With Pigeon feather 

sombreros Melting into 

The circuits short on 

Expression magnesium 

Spanish aplomb tequila

Minority of statistics 

Being drawn into loitering 

Around cometh the man

To Make perfume from

Nothing but crabs purses

And cinnamon sticks.

Of polar corpse drifting 

Reunion towards 

High vehicle reactions

With locomotive standstill

At lighthouse window 

Gorging on prancing 

Hard rifle Perry drunk

From Viking horn.