A Tall Order of Vanilla Bean, In a Sake Glass, The Last Night We Have To Toast Before Our Just Desserts In The End

In the beautiful whispers of silver sparkles, the moonlight gives way to let in the gold. A new year approaches and we cry desperately to bring in the heavenly, and do away with the old. The dew on the mountain air glides down for a shot visit on the lip of babes, but those who would do use to the message would never do what is needed for all.