Rider's roost seduced with the juice   Asleep on benches   Nine of a kind, a nowhere mind   in open trenches   In a five walled room sooner swoons   With cloudy clout   In a gravity well the tattle   tells what it's all about      I am what you ain't   March in the saints   Climbing a moonbeam   Wound's still deep   Climbing a moonbeam   Monsoon swells deep      Time divides faultless lines   Digging a hole where seismic slides   False starts heartless be stilling   Purity's finally free from distilling   Shanghai surprise same old gun shy