I've got a tree and some TCP, I've never been stuck in a horsebox or chased by a possessed fox but basically I'm lost in the ancient hedgerow of time, before there were cattle and snakes learnt to rattle. There were coconuts back then, three for a pound, but this is an irrelevant fact. Hmm, what was I saying? Ah yes, bring some weed or magic seeds and I'll give you majestically dancing extension leads if that's your preference, but lets make a reference to the eternal need, that of the seed, the planted seed from which grows weed and the one which we must never forget! And yet so many do and are adhered to sterile servitude and effective campaigns that twist the brain and prolong the agonising pain!

The carpet grower and sacred knower protrude from the hedgerow in the safety of the streetlight, long before dawn and warn of the horrors within. It's the allurer of the apparent sane, hidden wires running off up above and down below, dirty hands rotate horrid black dials perpetrating massacres of minds in rooms with warped doors.