in his skull the voices whispering their canon were like a patter of mice

Name: in his skull the voices whispering their canon were like a patter of mice
Description: in his skull the voices whispering their canon were like a patter of mice a song by Noertker's Moxie on BeMusic

in his skull the voices whispering their canon were like a patter of mice a song by Noertker's Moxie on BeMusic

the long greens and yellows by Noertker's Moxie,
Hunchy Hackett by Noertker's Moxie,
I am scarcely the outer world by Noertker's Moxie,
not sure that it was not a parcel by Noertker's Moxie,
there were connoisseurs by Noertker's Moxie,
preferred to have his back to his destination by Noertker's Moxie,
Watt’s was a funambulistic stagger by Noertker's Moxie,
science of the locked door by Noertker's Moxie,
a fine full apron of green baize by Noertker's Moxie,
and he sits in the red gloom by Noertker's Moxie,
premonitions of harmony are irrefragable by Noertker's Moxie,
the Laurel into Daphne by Noertker's Moxie,
modes of ululation – bitter, hollow, mirthless by Noertker's Moxie,
onions and peppermints – turn and turn about by Noertker's Moxie,
figments of the id by Noertker's Moxie,
all the gold and white and blue by Noertker's Moxie,
choon the piano by Noertker's Moxie,
a ravanastron hung, on the wall, from a nail, like a plover by Noertker's Moxie,
the strings are in flitters by Noertker's Moxie,
simple games that time plays with space by Noertker's Moxie,
this hairbreadth departure by Noertker's Moxie,
a little plated trowel by Noertker's Moxie,
the stairs that never seemed the same stairs by Noertker's Moxie,
a pillow of old words, for a head by Noertker's Moxie,
a little off the hooks by Noertker's Moxie,
a picture hanging on the wall, from a nail by Noertker's Moxie,
the circle sailed steadfast in its white skies, with its patient breach forever below by Noertker's Moxie,
like the centuries that fall, from the pod of eternity by Noertker's Moxie,
tenth-rate xenium by Noertker's Moxie,
a fragment of rigmarole reread by Noertker's Moxie,
this long chain of consistence by Noertker's Moxie,
the three frogs by Noertker's Moxie,
the theatre of a similar conglutination by Noertker's Moxie,
floccillating his hard hat by Noertker's Moxie,
red, bluer, yellowist by Noertker's Moxie,
in our windowlessness, in our bloodheat, in our hush by Noertker's Moxie,
through this jocose this sniggering muck by Noertker's Moxie,
peers in peace by Noertker's Moxie,
except in moments of delirium, or during the service of the mass by Noertker's Moxie,
the sun, so long obnubilated by Noertker's Moxie,
The Mathematical Intuition of the Visicelts by Noertker's Moxie,
two by two the eyes put forth their curious beams by Noertker's Moxie,
an occasional raucous sally by Noertker's Moxie,
the issuing smokes mingled to vanish by Noertker's Moxie,
the fricatives in particular were pleasing by Noertker's Moxie,
the grey air aswirl with vain entelechies by Noertker's Moxie,
in his skull the voices whispering their canon were like a patter of mice by Noertker's Moxie,
Watt was an old rose now, and indifferent to the gardener by Noertker's Moxie,
threne by Noertker's Moxie,