After the foam is off the butter
And the last out has been made in the ninth
They'll be dancing ecstatically in rich creamy silk framed in red
And the Taylor still says 'no! You can't have it your way!'
Sumanas flowers when offered at the feet of Mahaprabhu are more valuable than the bestest of rose and today the sumanas garlands tickle their toes.
Today a stagecoach driver gave me the call so to the tree let praises be it's time to meet the man with the strong box and then pedal on free. Away over the bridge and the florist the football field is on the right and then the curve to the left. Saint Dagwood's river runs deep and the redone road beckons then points the way to the natasala that is dark tonight. The gecko is there to guide me through the triangle as usual and then the dog wash. The harbor and the skull and cross bones are out over the windmill. The point of the hook puts me in the direction of the opal cliff and then the wharf road. The main road and the long and winding one delivers me to the ratha-bhojana-vrksa to thank it for watching over me during the adventure.
Everyone knows the names of the holy places in the world and this nightdress has its name too. “They call east Bengal the Radhadesa, call this baby blue” and Guru-Gauranga Gandharvika-Giridhari take their rest in beds decorated with aromatic flowers.