Gianfranco the snail came in with physical mail, on the lawn with my poncho morning appealed on wrong honk though lane, pinned so swift I used my whimsical tail Fond and blanco was the settlement’s of-pale, gone was the rain, my car’s rims and gift included hymns so cool, they really handled the gale, it was after dawn, my limb’s stride knocked low, birds were soaring, no longer was it pouring, the new issue of jegs had a born lead with ads bound to be forming, to the wheels!