By the greyhound, getting on to elope, our teacher is. Or, By a long-haul truck, getting on to elope, our teacher is.
My hands blood-stained, towards two fathers of me, holding up to and seeing. Or, our hands blood-stained, towards the father of us, holding up to and seeing.
On your belly, also a serpent stays, in a dark hole.
How to hold his arms learning, turned one, a child has.
With an alien, to made out to know, my days are ruined.