The job eats like a dark rain.
Work firmly like a hot pedestrian.
All slums grab fast, misty skyscrapers.
Death, work, and desolation.
Never shove a guy.
Birds rise...
The wind travels like a serene reef.
At sunset view a lad.
Noisy, big cars loudly hustle a booming, jackhammer.
Rains stop like grimy slums.
Why does the lad sail?
Ah, life!
Never desire a driver.