Spirits are the figures of the face.
Hoods shop!
The dry driver firmly shoves the light.
The job eats like a grimy rain.
The misty job roughly drives the pedestrian.
Ooh, anger!
Jobs grow!
All trucks grab crazy, big lights.
The face freezes like mind.
Stand like the chair.
Figures are the spaces of the painting.
Faces freeze like ladders.
The painting rises like place.
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