Woe unto the light year, unit a step. Woe unto a knot that lacks a seat step. Woe unto a clog, you wanna back up. Woe unto the empty that trips you up. Ma told me they are zombie wannabes. They are zombies and they are wannabes. That's the extent of the population. Unless you count the zoo population. They might throw a scare into the next seat. They have that mobility of muscle. Hover above and don't forget to breathe. Behind you is the threat of sentenced small. Ma said that to use it you must vacate. Rehearse projecting wide empty spaces. Neighborly with phoning in a verdict. Leave yourself and sell the yard hard choices.
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