Morfando.

A irmã menor ligou a máquina de centrifugar clima.
Tornados de açúcar me levaram ao purgatório do meu umbigo.
Uma vez lá eu não sabia cair pro lado de cá enquanto caia.
Teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeta
Delllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllta
Allllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllfa
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee....
Pronto.
Ventos faziam voar infinitos bilhetes do túmulo de Becket,
folhas de relva e um elefante.
Ah, nãoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.