one turn against the grain and coils in your bonesnnot some dystrophy and amplified in tone npress down on spinning tops and the spring drives thru your handnthat spin will never stop til the forces understand nnpardoned with paragraphs that explain it all in lengthnten years of slavery is reduced to a wink nyou'll shut both eyes and say that words are on your tonguengotta get your liquor up before the words can be sung nnTerritoire...nTerritoire you are lonely...nnthe portrait of ownership will follow hypnotizednface down on polar rugs in freezing copper mines nlook see that iron ore is only leeching brassndon't trust that iron ore it's inspiration has passed nnposted in Pickering to increase our profits therenbreathe in a little deeper now I say taste that city air nyou'll shut both eyes and say that the future's on your tonguenbottom out on bitterlake there's still time to be hung nnTerritoire...nTerritoire, you are lonely...nnroads are changing back to pavementnhigh tides comin on and all is sedimentnall essential, all essential read potential, repopulation