dawn y
ou t
ake it

fro
m w
ho y

ou were, wh
o won't ne
ed it

'faux man
o
ir

tout de suite é
vapor
é en

brumes
qui impos
a une born

e à l'in
fin
i'

o
r w

hen
horace

w
al

pole
wake

s you up f
or gas m

one
y

After a silence
The conjurer tells me
Which face is mine
I am proud of my chickens

our
me
la

n
chola
i d

if
furs
but t

hat
one
's ours

'-ret
urn
e a

noon, F
o
l

wing
awa
y th th

read' c
hauce
r run,

net
h over
a ko

ra o
ver

desc
end,ing
cup

c
anoni

c
al haig

io
graph

ic
mikh

a
il ki

l
led by

an
im

i
tator