Into the Neptunia

We collected everything we had, stuffing knapsacks with keepsakes and heading off

Pockets full of day old bread

We made it as far as the river that day, sometimes dropping crumbs

We we’re running from something, or other more persuasive adventures called

Luckily friction still operates normally, heating tin cans on coals and conjuring a meal is still simple

Above the gods aligned, and brightly sent us to sleep