A land is ruled with staff in hand
mighty scepter to false Gods,
I wield powers unseen by mortal man.
A tool for the very rights of passage,
leaving trails to nowhere
yet trails to everywhere...
I catch your drift.
Moon boots trace forecasts
in ghostly cloaks,
a burial in the eye of the storm,
I yield not to this treachery.
Take back these cold airs demon...
I cast thee out of tranquil shores.
I command thee to release these pipes,
allow these crystal waters to flow
again in my sacred well.
Release my trusty steed from bondage,
her powers restored to fanciful flights of necessity...
to the plumber's domain
where magic will cure these frozen veins...
Release, I say ye...
A kingdom locked in icy towers,
with record cold breaths,
you lay waste,
yielding not the power of wisdom
but laying dormant waiting...waiting
for the Sun God Ra...
Turn these pillars of ice
to the well springs of life again...
I command ye!
Well...it's summer in the land down under...Australia...where Tracy's Shadow Shots bask in the warmth of a season...but please don't let me stop you from enjoying the shadows...even as I sit frozen in time...in the lost continent of Iowa...the temperatures rise even as we speak and hopes bloom again with the sun at the Pink Chateau...