The Thing From Within

It used to be a thing within tickle in my fatal friend, in disorder all depends shaped through the key of a simple mile lone to dismiss by a passerby trickery to the Autumn's Eye cling on to the edge swing slow bargain basement news as near below there's puddy in the street light flow on exchange to the evening tide amazed through the tocking of the ego strange between the lights gone dim outside upon the rodeo icy ledge from ear to ear all draw a bit near the prisoner to inflate the official cause to read