Old rock you who have lived through eons of time can you tell me when
the beginning began? Or is time a spinning wheel of perpetual motion,
a Nevada desert of killed gangsters, in shallow graves, waiting for me
to find their dry bones and seek closure by revenge. You needn’t answer,
our brother the pebble, soon to be dyed red and be a tiny part of a posh
driveway, says the ultimate goal for life is Nirvana which, for a pebble,
means to be a golden ring around a tropical island.
When the wheel stops having spun a cardigan to keep you warm as you
sail to the mystical, misty island of Saragossa Sea. Only you have to pay,
now since a venture capitalist bought the island (including mist) and
turned it into a nautical themed amusement park.