Lath Litany For The Fallen
Scarlatine, there is nothing concrete about you. Go on expecting us to undulate in your name. Ostracize loquacious dregs. Will there be an obsequy, held for us with a sixty-fourth force? Use the parasympathetic parasol now. I know, it was tucked under the floorboards-kept safe from exposure. A framboesia on their house. Discommode this trenchant phalanx. Your lucre-driven proginy proliferate anxiety! Well, I laugh in the face of her supposed latria-the Ne Temere marriage. So I'm the morphea morosis. All she loves and lives for.