The Finis Sing Touches Touche

The finis sing touches touché Knead dull brows knitted; belief system I cogitate gearing thee ordinary bipedal hominid acquiesces to deck the halls of the mountain (dew) king with boughs of sister golden haired sprinkling angel dust from cremated remains in bleak midwinter unwittingly interweaving pagan rituals tacitly accepted yet quietly jeered as anathema to march of the kings, who instilled obedience or death which layman forswore, whence his loss of life or limb as mass of cries neared resounding like tortured souls self flagellating their inherent joy to the world, whereby unsuspecting cynics among the madding crowd paired amidst common everyday folk beckoning ad lib lip-synced first noel extemporaneously grafting customs taught when reared as just a little drummer boy/girl pipsqueak, since straying from mainstream religious parameters scared the silent night with unimaginable ogres on the warpath to smite mortal man/woman with flaming torches angering unfriendly beasts tiered inside the city state panning labyrinth ready for total mortal kombat while shepherds watched their flock – as the latter veered away from getting fleeced such as this writer, who might be lambasted for verging on the brink of being sacrilegious and/or weird after forking over a tidy sum a million bucks? Not by a far stretch. Please keep on the que tee i.e. hush regarding this soupy poetic fabrication bravely bursting buttucks amucks thus haint wise to mess wit me lest cha wanna split high knee a fate worse than death with hen whoopsy tipsy daisy excuse employing faux pas impairment via this Gypsy. Diabolical harassing lurked poised – ready to strike yours truly, when he obliviously frolicked, during his boyhood carefree before the onset of self loathing. Drunk with knowledge whither hearing, vis (ideally, liberal commentators I adore), asper "NON FAKE") news, more than weather, latest sports score or reading, (yes of course out loud applying index finger de rigueur of right hand as pointer) poetically mentioned once before ditto via select publications (oh...alright TIME Magazine, The Nation, and/or Mother Jones) all of which boar like a mellow red bull at four after midnight, nonetheless, who decrees (hmm... maybe ludicrous to ask Jeeves courtesy deplorable basket case, but inquisitiveness persists what body electric discriminates furthermore freedom of what gets published, or determines permissible broadcasts made by Federal Communications Commission allowing, enabling, and providing galore of choice morsels pollinating mass media buzzfeeding popular culture additionally permitting opinions shared by hardcore investigative journalists, putting life and limb at risk nonetheless inherent within constitution delimiter i.e. bureau to censor radical, subversive, more treasonous than Socialism with Iron Maiden on tour must serve as kickstarter to stifle: tyranny, mutiny, anarchy, et cetera and shore up defenses (perhaps in dolled guise of a reinforced wall) toward those who ignore codas defining complex edifice of government trumpeting defiance, uncivil disobedience, insouciance, et cetera in an attempt to restore totalitarianism stripping away inalienable rights of life, liberty and pursuit of happiness endowed by a smoothbore!