Ring-a-ding-ding, it’s future o’clock.  Get up, shake off the cobwebs, feel the morning.  Night, you belong to the river, be dark.  Wake up with a thousand sleeping culprits.  I mean this wholeheartedly.  Become an advantage.  Be loose in the goosebox, bros.  Put the cranium to major elasticity.  Smack the canvas, drip the paint, boys.

Go find a large, long, deep rabbit hole and climb in and wear a suit on the other side, where butterflies alight off your fingertips and the sun is always behind you, all walking deep pavements and bottlecaps make tap-shoes of your feet.

I mean this.  Endure the trials of malignation, be a raise of positivity.  You feel me, dog.