See; not a hair is, not an eyelash, not the least lash lost; every hair Is, hair of the head, numbered. Nay, what we had lighthanded left in surly the mere mould Will have waked and have waxed and have walked in the wind what while we slept, […]

Along the way, over the last 17 years, the band’s stature has evolve from guildlike obscurity to best-kept secrecy to a sort of aw-shucks pre-eminence.

In effect, and by default, book-building was taught and learned textlessly.

He got his hand on her behind and caressed her firm, ample flesh.[…]You got some back on you, girl.