Fair illustrator. Killer. I’m otherwise kind of a coffee head. Question.. 
Have we ever done anything but toy with the true weather? Oh, who knows? Oh, fair Ladytron. You know, you seem so fake-excited in your periphery, kind of staying inside a soft radical anathemic vapor, loosely true 
 
Yet demolished. Ergo your discourse comes down as animated routines. No personality.  
Going back, favoring a fair objective   
 
Boy-girl, your kind is in a chess game.  
I’m going to castle you. We are..   
 
Shall I mark you as another true ambition  
in an illustrator’s incident layers, 3 in 1 —  
 
Having what you’re having, sorting the dots’  
 
Congeries of texture? I turned and we asked again.  
(It felt unwise.)