Chilling, changing, and chained with chimneys was Chip Welker's interval of sleep, rest resumed Heading for the hill's ring with hane's bling had the land's plane run swift with the pin's lead, the rush ripped, their belt's word of hinged heard goals loved "the deep", the quest's moon went with June Inside of Neptune their debt was doomed Passes of their wing's tide buzzed, their lecht's soon gears kept fuzz (so soon), the bet boomed Whims of decide did trust the crusts, the