Steampunk

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It's Not Unusual   Ariel is a beauty beyond compare, at least To those with her in the medical bay The sea of disease, ever present In the lantern lights, the rusted gears
Lace outlines delicate throats of women Nobly walking down cobblestone streets, Grease coats the hands of mechanical men As they hammer metal in steady beats.
Problems Modern questions Things for solving Some quandaries for unwinding Queries   Puzzles Of everything
My name is Wesley Zedock.
I hear the living wires go tic tic tic and the sparks that follow answer with a click click click and somewhere there's a gear that grinds-grinds and a ever-springing coil to unwind-wind
Nothing moves, While others sleep, The spring expanded then wound, Life begins the cogs move, The hands move through the day, The sprocket expands and contracts rapidly, moving time forward,
Tick-tock now, hurry up and go! The gears of this clocksmith don’t grind themselves you know. Is your beat good? How are your hands? Are in proper shape? I don’t like relying on the hourglass sand.
It was an old airship Old and abandoned But there was a story behind it, if you looked hard enough that it. It's railings marred by swords and gunfire It's propellers rusted by rain It's sail full of holes
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