You must see it to believe it. Exceptional. Beyond belief. A city made of white. A city made of LIGHT! The money is bad here. My pockets. Oh, the void. I still smell of ash. You want more than a quarter of it? A match, a strike, a flame. But up we rise, toward the sun and the moon. And down toward the sea where there stands a ghost ship. A gift from God to an old world awash with new. Let us gather, celebrate, enjoy. You must see it to believe it.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
The White City is Crazy
You must see it to believe it. Exceptional. Beyond belief. A city made of white. A city made of LIGHT! The money is bad here. My pockets. Oh, the void. I still smell of ash. You want more than a quarter of it? A match, a strike, a flame. But up we rise, toward the sun and the moon. And down toward the sea where there stands a ghost ship. A gift from God to an old world awash with new. Let us gather, celebrate, enjoy. You must see it to believe it.
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