
The man with the electric charge, in his hand of energy around the wrist a working class wand, in a sea of corporate swords surging and scything swathes through the common hordes in the complex of complexities, rolling in a barrel as sea washes back, grains of sand, we are energy shapes under a sun, glistening, shining crystal on shifting sands to reform under the night time, moon that is both master and servant in creation of gravity pull.
