On the corners of century break the old jukebox and a bookstore across the street of the nine and the first like swift of a slight hiss as blade at swing or snake sound as all around of four ways of wind in garden and towns main roads fare of four went to come now and then the time breathing on my neck the long the far as old am now is of the clocks right a hand on face to face to face load the guns with powder and light my cigarette on ten steps to count before turn and luck to fate guns left to be the judge death which man to time first hand missed on the walls and high on the tower one minute other to hour bets closed fate called lucky what fated as did go opposite directions their horse and met like river in one way so does tommorrow to day be fate and luck best friends since first duel they met to meet its match like mirror the glass and time forever as the word of tale of the brothers of nowayet.