Grace-I'd-said-I'd-known: ...but, I guess nothing stayed inside, Swallowed by your traded road, tossing In all of the fated tries. I've weakened in The rumble, but, I just keep on blasting. Burned-down-to-the-flue The holes we made were eyes, never shown & Almost found. You finally lanced the trouble down. But, which of us goes under? The drive? Or the Dragline?