What's that the wife's a waif waiting to jump...
A Letcher bloke divinatory, soars immersed.. for
surely not a bridge,
though the bridge, as originally makes
the best of life, finding arrangements in everyday folk

Better start off through the aerie, thoughts of angels, decisions lazy,
mirroring wit, refined is one's lady

We shall freely end, be at all variations that lead to yes
And the English, they'd say "a bird and a man...in pitiful alliance?"
Then rebel pitiful braggers and let the blessed now reticent prevalence
lead to the holy place that all useless Messiah's go,
Golden rings, imperial arts, fleets of fighters, there they eventually go

... Or shall we prevent the turning of the battalions the lilies of tigers turn to rot
Destroying the last of every pestilent fool and join now the man and girl
to sovereignty for the rightful expect not...

...Owners of pain that endure... such titles, askew ensuring criers, cry
to the horror or the faith and hopes bountiful

All beings amidst their struggles did find a bridge to cross
then found it better that together we jump and therein
what was Valhalla all of us nailed to the cross
and with serenity the what was our mutual loss
now is a governance of the pall, a regret, and the loss
that still can render exclaim truth
we shall all be elated

Human condition