excuse me rashly concerning my career

wow pageantry means a lot in our town, roof overhead, systems go. then the mysterious ranger walks in, dark, fields certainly accepted. no wait, it is a poem poised for something purpose, like meaning only not so hard. a nation, then, as iffy as a byproduct, in which younglings and oldsters can open party lines together, whetehr invited or not. only not so fast buster moments arise as humanly possible. a lot of fingers seem to point, if not even tellingly predicting a place in space, person who has an idea about 'it'. well, we all now that route, and the fight for right, and wish we could contain all the maximums we believe in. drumming up traffic for the next revolt, getting fannies in the seats and the word out. lovely stuff. which side of this circle are you on? prove a point.