A wet healer 
Has the systolic sea in the priestess dreaming of a magyckal Queen discovered ravings? 
Now it is teacher-like.
Have my claws attacked chaotic knives? 
In the days of yore you were grim , though still at last you are figure-loving.
My martyr is as indestructible as my faeries. 
Mourn hopefully, flutter!
The dream hiding behind the figure struggles , the mirage of contentment mourns. 
My rainbow consumes me.
The cold oppressor through the wasteland longing for a indestructible meadow flutters , and yet the feet rage. 
For what reason are stupid eyes as formless as the oppressor of revulsion far beyond the sand?
A bat bursting forth from a orgasmic dragon is rock-enchanted! 
Finally, the memory of heartache!

Original URL: jbrowse.com (has been defunct for some time)

Wayback Machine Archive. The original Ruby code can be found there as well.