A troubadour tread tracks, traversing the universe, trying to coerce a cursed verse. Asking the sea king, as king, to solicit an illicit listing from a nihilist specialist – he sought socialist stylists. Breaking bread with a bearded baker whilst imbibing beer, and other arbitrary carbs, with an arborist in dark garb, he forgot his marbles. Failing to find a rhyme of divine proportion, he took to liquor libations with a librarian –and a literal liberal. In his debauchery he watched in tacky Versace the botched Fibonacci dissolve to his anguish. So, the bard broke-out to the beach. Baking in banana boat’s blocker, our bandana-clad sunbather inadvertently bore benzene –this balm’s carcinogenic content caused the cancer it claimed to stave off. Ironic, this inquest for an iconic sonic to rule hegemonic turned so demonic. He went hasty to find a tasty pastry and after a mutant coconut donut he was newly on it. This triumphant truant knew his trove to be true! Whence his inspiration came from, nobody knew –just me and you.