##@£%*==,,                                          ,,==*%£@##
#@£%*==,,,                                          ,,,==*%£@#
##@£%*==,,                                          ,,==*%£@##
#@£%*==,,,                                          ,,,==*%£@#
##@£%*==,,                                          ,,==*%£@##
#@£%*==,,,                    %%                    ,,,==*%£@#
##@£%*==,,                  %%  %%                  ,,==*%£@##
#@£%*==,,,                  %    %                  ,,,==*%£@#
##@£%*==,,                  %%  %%                  ,,==*%£@##
#@£%*==,,,                    %%                    ,,,==*%£@#
##@£%*==,,                                          ,,==*%£@##
#@£%*==,,,             # #===========# #            ,,,==*%£@#
##@£%*==,,    ## #  # # # 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.     ,,==*%£@##
#@£%*==,,,                                          ,,,==*%£@#
##@£%*==,,                                          ,,==*%£@##
#@£%*==,,,                                          ,,,==*%£@#
##@£%*==,,                                          ,,==*%£@##
#@£%*==,,,                                          ,,,==*%£@#
##@£%*==,,                                          ,,==*%£@##