1 ―ΞΌ³΅]ΪΦ~ 2015/04/16(Ψ) 03:10:33.92 ID:Zw1UNCEur
538 FGrape Ape F2015/04/16(Ψ) 03:05:03:34 ID:???0 ?2BP(666) 
The rusted chains of prison moons
Are shattered by the sun.
I walk a road, horizons change
The tournament's begun.
The purple piper plays his tune,
The choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,
For the court of the crimson king.