I want to fall into a long sleep off the back of this list of scores. Read out as I drift off; read out into my beginning dreams. Great blank sand dunes rise and fall beyond the horizon. This is a twilight land where I'm suspended on air. This ain't flight. You'll not starve. Cold doesn't exist. Instead, this is a colourless and mute world. To fall asleep with the ongoing scores. Would they'd go forever, featuring endless results that dip into every imaginable league. Enough time to sleep forever.