(Reed Cale). The myriad choices of his fate. Set themselves out upon a plate. For him to choose. What had he to lose. Not a ghost bloodied country. All covered with sleep. Where the black angel did weep. Not an old city street in the east. Gone to choose. And wandering's brother. Walked on through the night. With his hair in his face. On a long splintered cut from the knife of G.T.. The rally man's patter ran on through the dawn. Until we said so long. To his skull-shrill yell. Shining brightly red-rimmed and. Red-lined with the time. Infused with the choice of the mind. On ice skates scraping chunks. From the bells. Cut mouth bleeding razor's. Forgetting the pain. Antiseptic remains cool goodbye. So you fly. To the cozy brown snow of the east. Gone to choose choose again. Sacrificials remains make it hard to forget. Where you come from. The stools of your eyes. Serve to realize fame choose again. And roverman's refrain of the sacrilege recluse. For the loss of a horse. Went the bowels and a tail of a rat. Come again choose to go. And if Epiphany's terror reduced you to shame. Have your head bobbed and weaved. Choose a side to be on. If the stone glances off. Split didactics in two. Leave the colors of the mouse trails. Don't scream try between. If you choose if you choose try to lose. For the loss of remain come and start. Start the game I che che che che I. Che che ka tak koh. Choose to choose. Choose to choose choose to go.