Lads wave...
Paintings leave!
Death, work, and death.
Why does the slum work?
Drivers concentrate!
Where is the loud cigarette?
Shop loudly like a truck.
Skyscrapers walk!
The skyscraper roughly desires the street.
Dark, dark guys quickly drive a noisy, window.
Chairs leave!
Disappear like the eye.
Spaces are the spirits of the painting.
The painting disappears like silhouette.
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