A marathon is seen, a stone is passed,
And hereupon a plumb is sinking fast
A polygon at forty-five degrees,
Precision's introduced a mark of quality.

Just for security, let us fill out your attempt
(You split, your tongue is forking out)
For prematurity often results in success.

The ebb and flow of four, the corner beams,
(Your surface attractive, like metal on a gun)
For months rebuild upon recovery,
(Preoccupations subtracting all your luck)
A polygon at forty-five degrees,
(Prophecy of a saint, fallen all over the city)
Precision's introduced a mark of quality,
(Her surface attractive, like metal on a gun)