They Hoist me up the Stairs;
I only have to steer them, and
They Ride me Everywheres.
featuring 1 font
And he stared at the broken bone in his hand
Strains of a Viennese quartet rang out across the land
The monkey looked up at the stars
And he thought to himself
Memory is a stranger
History is for fools
And he cleaned his hands in a pool of holy writing
Turned his back on the garden and set out for the nearest town"
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RGB: 75 69 59
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RGB: 250 146 146
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RGB: 248 178 133
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RGB: 179 196 142
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RGB: 224 214 126