The Spoonbill Generator presents

The N+7 Machine

Original Text: Lennon/McCartney, "Penny Lane"

In Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs
Of every head he's had the pleasure to have known,
And all the people that come and go
Stop and say hello.

On the corner is a banker with a motorcar,
The little children laugh at him behind his back.
And the banker never wears a mac
In the pouring rain, very strange.

Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass
And in his pocket is a portrait of the Queen.
He likes to keep his fire engine clean,
It's a clean machine.

Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
A four of fish and finger pies
In summer, meanwhile back

Behind the shelter in the middle of the roundabout
A pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Penny Lane the barber shaves another customer,
We see the banker sitting waiting for a trim.
And then the fireman rushes in
From the pouring rain, very strange.

Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.
There beneath the blue suburban skies,
Penny Lane.

N+1

In Penny-farthing Language there is a barbiturate showing photographers
Of every headache he's had the pleat to have known,
And all the pepper that come and go
Stop and say helm.

On the cornerstone is a banking with a motorcar,
The little childhoods laughter at him behind his backbench.
And the banking never wears a mac
In the pouring rainbow, very strange.

Penny-farthing Language is in my eardrums and in my eyeballs.
There beneath the bluebell suburban skydivers
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Penny-farthing Language there is a fireplace with an house
And in his pocketbook is a portrayal of the Queer.
He likes to keep his firearm engineer clean,
It's a clean machinery.

Penny-farthing Language is in my eardrums and in my eyeballs.
A four of fisherman and fingermark pieces
In summerhouse, meanwhile back

Behind the shepherd in the middlebrow of the roundup
A pretty nursemaid is selling popularities from a treachery
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Penny-farthing Language the barbiturate shaves another cutback,
We see the banking sitting waiting for a trimaran.
And then the fireplace rusks in
From the pouring rainbow, very strange.

Penny-farthing Language is in my eardrums and in my eyeballs.
There beneath the bluebell suburban skydivers
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Penny-farthing Language is in my eardrums and in my eyeballs.
There beneath the bluebell suburban skydivers,
Penny-farthing Language.

N+2

In Penpusher Lantern there is a bard showing photographys
Of every headband he's had the pleb to have known,
And all the peppercorn that come and go
Stop and say helmet.

On the cornet is a banknote with a motorcar,
The little childminders launch at him behind his backbencher.
And the banknote never wears a mac
In the pouring raincoat, very strange.

Penpusher Lantern is in my earls and in my eyebrows.
There beneath the blueberry suburban skylarks
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Penpusher Lantern there is a fireplug with an houseboat
And in his pocketful is a pose of the Query.
He likes to keep his fireball engineering clean,
It's a clean machinist.

Penpusher Lantern is in my earls and in my eyebrows.
A four of fishery and fingernail piers
In summing-up, meanwhile back

Behind the shepherdess in the middleman of the rouse
A pretty nursery is selling populations from a treadle
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Penpusher Lantern the bard shaves another cutlass,
We see the banknote sitting waiting for a trimming.
And then the fireplug russians in
From the pouring raincoat, very strange.

Penpusher Lantern is in my earls and in my eyebrows.
There beneath the blueberry suburban skylarks
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Penpusher Lantern is in my earls and in my eyebrows.
There beneath the blueberry suburban skylarks,
Penpusher Lantern.

N+3

In Pension Lanyard there is a bargain showing photostats
Of every headboard he's had the plebeian to have known,
And all the peppermint that come and go
Stop and say helmsman.

On the cornfield is a bankroll with a motorcar,
The little chills launder at him behind his backbone.
And the bankroll never wears a mac
In the pouring raindrop, very strange.

Pension Lanyard is in my earldoms and in my eyefuls.
There beneath the bluebird suburban skylights
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Pension Lanyard there is a fireside with an houseboy
And in his pockmark is a poser of the Quest.
He likes to keep his firebomb englishman clean,
It's a clean macintosh.

Pension Lanyard is in my earldoms and in my eyefuls.
A four of fishing and fingerprint pierces
In summit, meanwhile back

Behind the sherbet in the midge of the rout
A pretty nursing is selling porches from a treadmill
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Pension Lanyard the bargain shaves another cutlet,
We see the bankroll sitting waiting for a trinket.
And then the fireside rusts in
From the pouring raindrop, very strange.

Pension Lanyard is in my earldoms and in my eyefuls.
There beneath the bluebird suburban skylights
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Pension Lanyard is in my earldoms and in my eyefuls.
There beneath the bluebird suburban skylights,
Pension Lanyard.

N+4

In Pensioner Lap there is a bargaining showing phrases
Of every headdress he's had the plectrum to have known,
And all the perambulator that come and go
Stop and say helper.

On the cornflower is a bankrupt with a motorcar,
The little chillis launderette at him behind his backcloth.
And the bankrupt never wears a mac
In the pouring rainforest, very strange.

Pensioner Lap is in my earlobes and in my eyelashes.
There beneath the bluebottle suburban skylines
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Pensioner Lap there is a firework with an housebreaker
And in his pod is a poseur of the Question.
He likes to keep his firebrand engraver clean,
It's a clean mackerel.

Pensioner Lap is in my earlobes and in my eyelashes.
A four of fishmonger and fingertip pierrots
In summons, meanwhile back

Behind the sheriff in the midget of the route
A pretty nurture is selling porcupines from a treasure
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Pensioner Lap the bargaining shaves another cutter,
We see the bankrupt sitting waiting for a trio.
And then the firework rustles in
From the pouring rainforest, very strange.

Pensioner Lap is in my earlobes and in my eyelashes.
There beneath the bluebottle suburban skylines
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Pensioner Lap is in my earlobes and in my eyelashes.
There beneath the bluebottle suburban skylines,
Pensioner Lap.

N+5

In Pentagon Lapel there is a barge showing physicals
Of every header he's had the pledge to have known,
And all the percentage that come and go
Stop and say helping.

On the cornice is a bankruptcy with a motorcar,
The little chillies laundry at him behind his backdrop.
And the bankruptcy never wears a mac
In the pouring rainstorm, very strange.

Pentagon Lapel is in my earmarks and in my eyelets.
There beneath the blueprint suburban skyscrapers
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Pentagon Lapel there is a firm with an housecoat
And in his podium is a posit of the Questioner.
He likes to keep his firebreak engraving clean,
It's a clean mackintosh.

Pentagon Lapel is in my earmarks and in my eyelets.
A four of fishwife and finish pigs
In sump, meanwhile back

Behind the sherry in the midnight of the routine
A pretty nut is selling pores from a treasurer
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Pentagon Lapel the barge shaves another cutting,
We see the bankruptcy sitting waiting for a trip.
And then the firm ruts in
From the pouring rainstorm, very strange.

Pentagon Lapel is in my earmarks and in my eyelets.
There beneath the blueprint suburban skyscrapers
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Pentagon Lapel is in my earmarks and in my eyelets.
There beneath the blueprint suburban skyscrapers,
Pentagon Lapel.

N+6

In Pentameter Lapse there is a bargee showing physicians
Of every heading he's had the plenary to have known,
And all the perception that come and go
Stop and say helter-skelter.

On the corollary is a banner with a motorcar,
The little chimes laurel at him behind his backer.
And the banner never wears a mac
In the pouring raise, very strange.

Pentameter Lapse is in my earners and in my eyelids.
There beneath the bluestocking suburban slabs
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Pentameter Lapse there is a firmament with an housefather
And in his poem is a position of the Questionnaire.
He likes to keep his firebrick enigma clean,
It's a clean madame.

Pentameter Lapse is in my earners and in my eyelids.
A four of fissure and fink pigeons
In sun, meanwhile back

Behind the shibboleth in the midpoint of the rove
A pretty nutcase is selling porpoises from a treasury
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Pentameter Lapse the bargee shaves another cuttlefish,
We see the banner sitting waiting for a triple.
And then the firmament sabbaticals in
From the pouring raise, very strange.

Pentameter Lapse is in my earners and in my eyelids.
There beneath the bluestocking suburban slabs
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Pentameter Lapse is in my earners and in my eyelids.
There beneath the bluestocking suburban slabs,
Pentameter Lapse.

N+7

In Pentathlon Lapwing there is a baritone showing physicists
Of every headlamp he's had the plenipotentiary to have known,
And all the perch that come and go
Stop and say hem.

On the corona is a bannister with a motorcar,
The little chimeras lavatory at him behind his backfire.
And the bannister never wears a mac
In the pouring raisin, very strange.

Pentathlon Lapwing is in my earningss and in my eye-openers.
There beneath the bluff suburban slackers
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Pentathlon Lapwing there is a first with an houseful
And in his poet is a posse of the Queue.
He likes to keep his firecracker enjoyment clean,
It's a clean madhouse.

Pentathlon Lapwing is in my earningss and in my eye-openers.
A four of fist and fir piggeries
In sunbather, meanwhile back

Behind the shield in the midriff of the row
A pretty nutcracker is selling ports from a treatise
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Pentathlon Lapwing the baritone shaves another cyclamen,
We see the bannister sitting waiting for a triplet.
And then the first sables in
From the pouring raisin, very strange.

Pentathlon Lapwing is in my earningss and in my eye-openers.
There beneath the bluff suburban slackers
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Pentathlon Lapwing is in my earningss and in my eye-openers.
There beneath the bluff suburban slackers,
Pentathlon Lapwing.

N+8

In Penthouse Larch there is a bark showing physicss
Of every headland he's had the plight to have known,
And all the percolate that come and go
Stop and say he-man.

On the coronary is a banquet with a motorcar,
The little chimneys law at him behind his background.
And the banquet never wears a mac
In the pouring rake, very strange.

Penthouse Larch is in my earphones and in my eyepieces.
There beneath the blunder suburban slags
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Penthouse Larch there is a fish with an household
And in his poetry is a possession of the Quibble.
He likes to keep his fire-eater enlargement clean,
It's a clean madman.

Penthouse Larch is in my earphones and in my eyepieces.
A four of fistful and fire piggies
In sunbeam, meanwhile back

Behind the shift in the midwife of the rowboat
A pretty nuthouse is selling portables from a treatment
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Penthouse Larch the bark shaves another cycle,
We see the banquet sitting waiting for a tripod.
And then the fish sabotages in
From the pouring rake, very strange.

Penthouse Larch is in my earphones and in my eyepieces.
There beneath the blunder suburban slags
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Penthouse Larch is in my earphones and in my eyepieces.
There beneath the blunder suburban slags,
Penthouse Larch.

N+9

In Peony Lard there is a barmaid showing physiognomies
Of every headlight he's had the plimsoll to have known,
And all the percolator that come and go
Stop and say hemisphere.

On the coronation is a banshee with a motorcar,
The little chimps lawn at him behind his backhand.
And the banshee never wears a mac
In the pouring rally, very strange.

Peony Lard is in my earpieces and in my eyesores.
There beneath the blur suburban slaloms
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Peony Lard there is a fisherman with an householder
And in his pogrom is a possessive of the Quiche.
He likes to keep his firefly enlistment clean,
It's a clean madrigal.

Peony Lard is in my earpieces and in my eyesores.
A four of fit and firearm piggybacks
In sunbonnet, meanwhile back

Behind the shilling in the mighty of the rower
A pretty nutrient is selling portals from a treaty
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Peony Lard the barmaid shaves another cyclist,
We see the banshee sitting waiting for a tripper.
And then the fisherman saboteurs in
From the pouring rally, very strange.

Peony Lard is in my earpieces and in my eyesores.
There beneath the blur suburban slaloms
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Peony Lard is in my earpieces and in my eyesores.
There beneath the blur suburban slaloms,
Peony Lard.

N+10

In People Larder there is a barman showing physiotherapists
Of every headline he's had the plinth to have known,
And all the percussionist that come and go
Stop and say hemline.

On the coroner is a bantam with a motorcar,
The little chimpanzees lawsuit at him behind his backhander.
And the bantam never wears a mac
In the pouring ram, very strange.

People Larder is in my earplugs and in my eyewashes.
There beneath the blush suburban slams
I sit, and meanwhile back

In People Larder there is a fishery with an housekeeper
And in his poinsettia is a possessor of the Quickie.
He likes to keep his fireguard enmity clean,
It's a clean madwoman.

People Larder is in my earplugs and in my eyewashes.
A four of fitment and fireball piglets
In sunburn, meanwhile back

Behind the shilly-shally in the migraine of the rowlock
A pretty nutriment is selling portculliss from a treble
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In People Larder the barman shaves another cyclone,
We see the bantam sitting waiting for a triptych.
And then the fishery sabres in
From the pouring ram, very strange.

People Larder is in my earplugs and in my eyewashes.
There beneath the blush suburban slams
I sit, and meanwhile back.
People Larder is in my earplugs and in my eyewashes.
There beneath the blush suburban slams,
People Larder.

N+11

In Pepper Lark there is a barn showing physiques
Of every headman he's had the plodder to have known,
And all the peregrination that come and go
Stop and say hen.

On the coronet is a banter with a motorcar,
The little chins lawyer at him behind his backing.
And the banter never wears a mac
In the pouring ramble, very strange.

Pepper Lark is in my earrings and in my eyewitnesses.
There beneath the bluster suburban slanders
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Pepper Lark there is a fishing with an housemaid
And in his point is a possibility of the Quicksand.
He likes to keep his fireman enormity clean,
It's a clean maestro.

Pepper Lark is in my earrings and in my eyewitnesses.
A four of fitness and firebomb pigments
In sundae, meanwhile back

Behind the shin in the migrant of the royalist
A pretty nutter is selling portents from a tree
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Pepper Lark the barn shaves another cygnet,
We see the banter sitting waiting for a tripwire.
And then the fishing sacs in
From the pouring ramble, very strange.

Pepper Lark is in my earrings and in my eyewitnesses.
There beneath the bluster suburban slanders
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Pepper Lark is in my earrings and in my eyewitnesses.
There beneath the bluster suburban slanders,
Pepper Lark.

N+12

In Peppercorn Larva there is a barnacle showing pianists
Of every headmaster he's had the plonk to have known,
And all the perennial that come and go
Stop and say henchman.

On the corp is a banyan with a motorcar,
The little chinks laxative at him behind his backlog.
And the banyan never wears a mac
In the pouring rambler, very strange.

Peppercorn Larva is in my earths and in my eyries.
There beneath the boa suburban slants
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Peppercorn Larva there is a fishmonger with an houseman
And in his pointer is a possum of the Quid.
He likes to keep his fireplace enquirer clean,
It's a clean mag.

Peppercorn Larva is in my earths and in my eyries.
A four of fitter and firebrand pigpens
In sundial, meanwhile back

Behind the shindig in the migration of the royalty
A pretty nylon is selling porters from a treetop
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Peppercorn Larva the barnacle shaves another cylinder,
We see the banyan sitting waiting for a triumph.
And then the fishmonger sachets in
From the pouring rambler, very strange.

Peppercorn Larva is in my earths and in my eyries.
There beneath the boa suburban slants
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Peppercorn Larva is in my earths and in my eyries.
There beneath the boa suburban slants,
Peppercorn Larva.

N+13

In Peppermint Larynx there is a barnyard showing pianos
Of every headmistress he's had the plop to have known,
And all the perfectionist that come and go
Stop and say henna.

On the corporal is a baptism with a motorcar,
The little chips layabout at him behind his backpack.
And the baptism never wears a mac
In the pouring ramification, very strange.

Peppermint Larynx is in my earthquakes and in my fables.
There beneath the boar suburban slaps
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Peppermint Larynx there is a fishwife with an housemaster
And in his poison is a post of the Quiet.
He likes to keep his fireplug enquiry clean,
It's a clean magazine.

Peppermint Larynx is in my earthquakes and in my fables.
A four of fitting and firebreak pigsties
In sundry, meanwhile back

Behind the shiner in the mike of the rubber
A pretty nymph is selling portfolios from a trek
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Peppermint Larynx the barnyard shaves another cymbal,
We see the baptism sitting waiting for a triumvirate.
And then the fishwife sacks in
From the pouring ramification, very strange.

Peppermint Larynx is in my earthquakes and in my fables.
There beneath the boar suburban slaps
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Peppermint Larynx is in my earthquakes and in my fables.
There beneath the boar suburban slaps,
Peppermint Larynx.

N+14

In Perambulator Laser there is a barometer showing pianofortes
Of every headphone he's had the plot to have known,
And all the perforation that come and go
Stop and say heptagon.

On the corporation is a bar with a motorcar,
The little chipmunks lay-by at him behind his backside.
And the bar never wears a mac
In the pouring ramp, very strange.

Perambulator Laser is in my earthworks and in my fabrics.
There beneath the board suburban slashes
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Perambulator Laser there is a fissure with an housemother
And in his poisoner is a postbag of the Quill.
He likes to keep his fireside enrolment clean,
It's a clean maggot.

Perambulator Laser is in my earthworks and in my fabrics.
A four of fiver and firebrick pigtails
In sunflower, meanwhile back

Behind the shingle in the mile of the rubbing
A pretty nymphomaniac is selling portholes from a trellis
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Perambulator Laser the barometer shaves another cynic,
We see the bar sitting waiting for a triviality.
And then the fissure sackings in
From the pouring ramp, very strange.

Perambulator Laser is in my earthworks and in my fabrics.
There beneath the board suburban slashes
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Perambulator Laser is in my earthworks and in my fabrics.
There beneath the board suburban slashes,
Perambulator Laser.

N+15

In Percentage Lash there is a baron showing piazzas
Of every headquarters he's had the plotter to have known,
And all the performance that come and go
Stop and say herald.

On the corpse is a barb with a motorcar,
The little chiropodists layer at him behind his backwater.
And the barb never wears a mac
In the pouring rampage, very strange.

Percentage Lash is in my earthworms and in my fabrications.
There beneath the boarder suburban slats
I sit, and meanwhile back

In Percentage Lash there is a fist with an houseplant
And in his poke is a postcard of the Quilt.
He likes to keep his firework ensemble clean,
It's a clean magic.

Percentage Lash is in my earthworms and in my fabrications.
A four of fix and firecracker pikes
In sunhat, meanwhile back

Behind the ship in the mileage of the rubbish
A pretty oaf is selling porticos from a tremolo
And though she feels as if she's in a play
She is anyway.

In Percentage Lash the baron shaves another cypher,
We see the barb sitting waiting for a troglodyte.
And then the fist sacraments in
From the pouring rampage, very strange.

Percentage Lash is in my earthworms and in my fabrications.
There beneath the boarder suburban slats
I sit, and meanwhile back.
Percentage Lash is in my earthworms and in my fabrications.
There beneath the boarder suburban slats,
Percentage Lash.

---

Generated: 2023-04-16 11:00:22
Dictionary: large
Version: 0.9j (15/04/23)