Salty Tales of the Sea, IYou should like, go.That was the words. Nothing less, nothing more. A little hint. Not even a riddle, simply a statement.Well, there was nothing to be confused about. His message was clear. It was not just his opinion - it was a clear fact, and he knew it.On with the backpack, down the stairs, and out the door. Didn't even bother to say goodbye! But I guess that's just how life is in the fast lane.Now, the fast lane is a pretty interesting concept. What is it, really? Dead men surely tell no tales, and storytellers are a dying yet persistent race.I have no clue. In reality I'm wise and fancy, but I lack style and proper manners. I'm a man of the past, but bound for the future. There's no denying it - I just have to follow the road.So, what is it that makes EVERYTHING so god damn special? To be fair, only a handful of people know. The truth is, everybody ought to know. The bottom-feeders and the true sons of God. All should have the knowledge.The problem is not the capability of
Yellow hairTNT is importantThe yellow hair comesBut he's a gingerThe pipe flies throughThe glove cannot stop itThe skull is being smashedHe eats from the plateSits as the sun goes downHe is breathing loudlyTwo rolls of Mentos are fallingThe cocoa ain't hotIt explodes in his handThe souls are still unforgiven
bricks are dangerousThe brick falls from the tree.Fights its way through the air.It lands softly on the trampoline.Bouncing once. Bouncing far away.He was bend over the flowers.The grass becomes red.Laying in the grass so softly.The man looks him in the eyes.He didn't even blink.
can you fly?He's still breathingLooking at the skyHe stands on the ceilingBelieving he can flyJumps way too farLands on his kneesHe got out of the carDoes what noone sees
reappearaeppaerHe did not want to jumpBut the clown made him do itHoppe-di-hopHe hopped once. He hopped twice.Jumped in a bowl of riceThe two trees were crookedHe hop-scotched once.He hop-scotched five times.Then the cloud came.And gone was he.R E A P PR A E