The energy is speeding up your lung,
	You had to cough!
	The flow is going up your stomach,
	You had to choke!
	Experience your life full of potential,
	For mystery, it shades your eyes,
			but not your brain,
	For adversity, it blocks your chest,
			  but not your heart.
	The energy! The flow!
		What it means to be human!

Push the right button.
	No, I mean the right button!
	Yes, the right one,
		The red one.
		No, the red one!
		The right one!
			Yes, now push it!
			What's wrong?
			Push the right button!
	How would the dinosaur come out if you don't push it?
Kid: I don't want the dinosaur to come out...

A beautiful triangle,
	So soft on the edge.
She sits there in the restaurant,
	As if the customers were in trance.
		A man comes in,
			For the great opening,
				Lasting the whole night,
					Until she bites.
A beautiful cylinder,
	Leads the appetite.
		She is no longer hungry for the pipe.

I picked up the phone.
	It was an important meeting,
	As important as whatever I am doing.
		And there is no reason for me to go,
		But there is no reason for me to not go,
		Yet I picked up the phone.
	The moon is getting low,
	And it starts to drag on my toe.
The meeting can wait,
	It isn't worth your breakfast to go pro,
	At least the eggs can glow.

	"Too long,
		I'm more interested in what he did wrong.
	Give him a gun,
		and make the scene more fun."
			- Hitchcock
	"Too short,
		Make the river longer by the fort.
	I don't care if my audience snort,
		Make it a feature,
			and get some support."
			- Clouzot

	Vomit,
	What a great taste,
		Like an expired yogurt hosted by bees.
	Eggs are fried with industrial waste,
		served with over-fermented cheese.
	Bread is made from heated paste,
		full of cadavers of yeast.
	Geez!
	What kind of restaurant is this?
		Look at the sign up from the waist,
			No humans allowed, please!

It tilts,
	slightly towards the alley,
		past the lovers' clothes,
			past the missing rose,
				and higher,
				    higher,
		it gets smaller,
				but higher,
			smaller,
				but higher,
		and so born the star.

Trees,
	are mobile.
	One can blow off all its leaves,
	One can cut off all its branches,
	One can scar its stem,
	One can enslave its body.
		But that is never the end,
		Like few will ever understand.
		The scar will mend, the remains will blend.
The vast is to amass, the spirit will also last,
			And it dies and lives on its ascend.

"How much did you pay?"
"4 cents."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes, that's the cost of the postage."
"...You could do..."
"Don't worry, it's only one week."
"No way."
"You could use the windows."
"YOU could use the windows."
"It's only one week..."
"Well, see you in one week then."

Listen up, kids!
	This is no Tom and Jerry,
		This is no Fast and Fury,
			This is no Pickle and Cherry,
				This is King-sized Canary!
				
Kid: Where do I find one?
	
Narrator: Oh--- no,
	You don't find one,
		It finds you.