Magic Carpet Rush Hour

too many people constipate the everlasting i use the populous of the widened state as a scapegoat the melancholy wind is my magic carpet rush hour it is my favorite time of the day to clock out i think of younger days when all the fruits on every tree were fresh and ripe i think of brighter days when all rocks were alive and eager to skip i think of simpler days when every vibe of motion had their smiles everpresent i think of better days when visions in front of me were so crisp and crystalline too many changes cause flatulation to all forward movement i use the populous of the explosive state as an excusable method of isolation the odoriferous wind is my magic carpet rush hour it is my favorite time of the day for an alternate route