#@#&$%*-,,                                          ,,-*%$&#@#
@#&$%*-,,,                                          ,,,-*%$&#@
#@#&$%*-,,                                          ,,-*%$&#@#
@#&$%*-,,,                                          ,,,-*%$&#@
#@#&$%*-,,                                          ,,-*%$&#@#
@#&$%*-,,,                    $$                    ,,,-*%$&#@
#@#&$%*-,,                  $$  $$                  ,,-*%$&#@#
@#&$%*-,,,                  $    $                  ,,,-*%$&#@
#@#&$%*-,,                  $$  $$                  ,,-*%$&#@#
@#&$%*-,,,                    $$                    ,,,-*%$&#@
#@#&$%*-,,                                          ,,-*%$&#@#
@#&$%*-,,,            # #-----------# #             ,,,-*%$&#@
#@#&$%*-,,    ## #  # # # 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                                  ,,,-*%$&#@
#@#&$%*-,,                                          ,,-*%$&#@#
@#&$%*-,,,                                          ,,,-*%$&#@
#@#&$%*-,, 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.     ,,-*%$&#@#
@#&$%*-,,,                                          ,,,-*%$&#@
#@#&$%*-,,                                          ,,-*%$&#@#
@#&$%*-,,,                                          ,,,-*%$&#@
#@#&$%*-,,                                          ,,-*%$&#@#
@#&$%*-,,,                                          ,,,-*%$&#@
#@#&$%*-,,                                          ,,-*%$&#@#