New age, new light new friends, new fights. New forms of pasture and scenic veiws of cynical bastards. Foaming at the tips of the sands a storm is glowing. New forms of Love, new forms of Hate, Impudic dreams of quarrels and heat. New forms of illusory fields, sliding my fingers through the air with finnesse. The clouds are cumulous today, the skies are boundful in play. New forms, new sounds, new age, no frowns.