#9522 - Throwing musical choruses among the work of the crowd, there’s not but a singer, a singer so loud Even the city thanks to their grace Counting their time until the melody sways Might like a lion prowling for meat, sly like a hound that no one can beat Joining Digging Entrepreneur Sawing Structuring, forming, rejoicing Gleaming with joy, showing his face Nobody knows how hard this takes Gleaming like a covalent little child Gleaming like a tunnel digger seeing the sun that’s mild. Harsh, perceiving, ample City of the Iron Leg They say you are one of a kind. And they call at you like a perilous call.
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