• Vol. 02
  • Chapter 12
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It was only yesterday we sat waiting
I know you are looking through the white window
It was a howling
A wind from nowhere
A belch from a giants cheeks
And we were gone to dust
Under the rocker, the chenille rug,
Substance stripped from our home
A shell of comfort, we are here of course
Just a notion in the rafters
But I doubt if you can see us
After the howling, the magic wand
Has turned this theatre over to ruin.