Without undercurrents, the overstory is overheated. On dancing days, moral fiber is unthreaded to find a new path. Single strings are simple stings whose beehives make the honey rings and math is strung from light to flowers, pollenated by our powers. Consanguinity is fiction while novel seeds fly sans depiction. Sentence case is on appeal while capping locking hats of steel. The broken window theory dies when everyone in cities lies: truth and law and ice and water justly turn to steaming cauter. Eyes will bind the will to faith and values wish they were a wraith. Plural blues are of the sky while try and try and try and try. Harder soft the east-bound touch; seaboards make a zoning crutch. Easy does it built to fall -- this godly paris plaster brawl.