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Along the highway: from sleep still callous fish with glued eyes limps: 
and devil males waits at the request stops for the wedding night connections forever
The work is being done everywhere around -
while some sort of toothless rogues tears off the reflectors from scattered mileposts 
- at scaffolding - the slimy tilers are chasing the painters: who came here to bleach everything -
of course: they're lighting the one stub from another:
and behind their backs: they're pouring themself with a dim black beer without foam