Three hooligans walk around in circles and talk about literally whatever. It's that simple.
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The world whirls
And slings round the sun.
The barrel yet remains.
Hounds howl around
Their chorusing sounds
Arousing more and more.
To a light source round and unknowable.
Cornerless overlord,
inoffensive and ubiquitous.
Through you we trek.
Please, shed mercy on us.