Yard Sale on 42nd and Lewis

Beyond the dream of the upper deck,

I stole a pack of amulets,

Cant wait to see their faces when I show them off,

Ive been a prisoner of their deeds true to their boss,

Many heroes guess at what is broken,

“this is almost gone yet I may have the potion”,
The shape of the individual comes along with a tag,

With Us examples of liquid without bags,

Constantly imagining that we will fit in,

Yet constantly absorbing the racks of wind,

Is this piece for sale in deed of its state?,

A spoken part of the trainee,

A pleasure in the mate.