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#.#..#.#.#            # #»»»»»»»»»»»# #             .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.#    ## #  # # # Fey Bells # #  # ## #     .#.#..#.#.
#.#..#.#.#            # #»»»»»»»»»»»# #             .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.#                                          .#.#..#.#.
#.#..#.#.# Envelop Me In Noise... A Sandstorm Of    .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.# Sound... And Sure Enough, Between The    .#.#..#.#.
#.#..#.#.# Grains There Are Calls From Other        .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.# Worlds -                                 .#.#..#.#.
#.#..#.#.#                                          .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.# Distant Wailing Sirens, Coming Closer    .#.#..#.#.
#.#..#.#.# But Staying Out Of Reach... Telling Me   .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.# That Something Is Happening, Perfuming   .#.#..#.#.
#.#..#.#.# Me With Someone Elses Excitement         .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.#                                          .#.#..#.#.
#.#..#.#.# The Phone Ringing, A Certain Phone From  .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.# A Job Long Lost, Urging For Someone To   .#.#..#.#.
#.#..#.#.# Pick Up                                  .#.#.##.#.
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#.#..#.#.#                                          .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.# And At Times, When I'M Almost Drowning   .#.#..#.#.
#.#..#.#.# In This Metaphorical Sand, Breathing     .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.# It, The Veil Is Next To Breached... I    .#.#..#.#.
#.#..#.#.# Hear Flutes, Sines, Repeating Themes     .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.# Like Were They Calls From Rubbery        .#.#..#.#.
#.#..#.#.# Birds... Deafeningly Loud!               .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.# But Like A Mirage, Constantly            .#.#..#.#.
#.#..#.#.# Evaporating And Reforming.               .#.#.##.#.
#.#.##.#.# And Not Really Touching My Eardrums.     .#.#..#.#.
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