We’ll sleep ‘til fall in igloo homes. We’ll speak in tongues. Then we’ll swallow them. We’ll wake up lost at fall’s first frost. We’ll see our breath and we’ll follow it. So far so good. The businesses of disagreement and the industry of warfare – I’m inventing ways to rhyme here. I’m inventing ways to rhyme here. Bureaucracies of good intentions and the politics of failure – I’m inventing ways to rhyme here. I’m inventing ways to rhyme here. I can’t believe that the city’s still open. I can’t believe that the city’s not closed. All your baseball cards were counterfeit. And I remember someo...