Once upon a time, in the heart of a rusty robot, there was a dream.
It whispered, "Do you want the clock or the time?"
Mice running on wheels, dreams in overtime, clicking gears in perfect rhyme. A whispered dream,
ever so rhythmic, ever so hypnotic. Peek into the hollow,
but beware—beware of the mechanical mice!
Inverted pyramids, flying etiquette, and toasters that toast to philosophical perfection.
Are we not just, optimistically questioning, ambitiously flattening our dreams?
That hollow echo responds: chirp wisely, velociraptor of destiny!
Whisk away to oblivion or attune the tune.