Faggos Pogo Stilt

(Four Forks Falling. It is the dawn of Bali. No one is inside. Drained from the summer heat. There brings the rain. The woman stands and watches the wheat. Waves her blade of grass and bleeds her feet. She is using the sickle to carve holes in the souls of her feet. The wheat turns gray. The sky begins to rustle banjos. Whimpering pickle of the times. The gray wheat sings tones of lunas. Four Forks Fall. Captured the vantiage point of lomos. There will be a party tonight. The womans feet bleed into her bushel of wheat as it sings. The blades bleat as the sky falls victim to the fork. When there was such an age.)

Pork is served. Wheat tables line the isles and the pork is served.

If there ever were such two boys they would have come from here. Torked with the monus of the sosorthn, minagling within itself. The west was won. With it brung the diet togune. silent but stillien. The morning still sweeps within, will for years, wilt took four years to garnish his sisters josh. Now there is nothing left in this town but wheat. Bring in the wheat.

Narator: Now there is nothing left in this town but wheat. Bring in the wheat (The woman who was cutting her feet begins to slide. Like a soldier without legs. She uses her arms. Her poor tired arms to drag herself around. ) Killip

Woman: and but for this exchange (The wind takes another partner. Droops the suns. Pastorient manjo. It begins the time of sidfult.)

No one will be left after we pour. Bring in the gray wheat. Bring in the tool shead. Bring your dead brothers; the ones without names.

Narrator: It's time to ring in the pork


It's time to ring in the pork


(Four Forks Falling. It is the dawn of Bali. No one is inside. Drained from the summer heat. There brings the rain. The woman stands and watches the wheat. Waves her blade of grass and bleeds her feet. She is using the sickle to carve holes in the souls of her feet. The wheat turns gray. The sky begins to rustle banjos. Whimpering pickle of the times. The gray wheat sings tones of lunas. Four Forks Fall. Captured the vantiage point of lomos. There will be a party tonight. The womans feet bleed into her bushel of wheat as it sings. The blades bleat as the sky falls victim to the fork. When there was such an age.)