Everything’s Brilliant

A walker of dogs! The hollow results pity us poor sycophants and lunatics. Get out because you have no business here. What you’re selling we ain’t buying; we’ve not gone away, we’ve been hijacked again. Now we’re turning to ash, a gift of forgetting in the final dawn. Nothing matters… the silence is deafening. We have no reason to doubt you, the keepers of wind machines.

Some kind of minor adjustment. No go elevator.