The Welcome to the best news six-part Danish crime drama.

She buys everything. The gloves go in the kitchen water. Mother is juicing watermelons on the breakfast island and with frail hands she grips the mutual bullet and the bite of its blades reminds me of the future that I am in no way part of and in a wall of photographs in the downstairs second living rooms TV area I become her father

and complain of mediocre theater in the daytime an ice in single month whiskey at night

of rising scar skirt hems,

lowering IQs, and things just dark built like they used to me,

the absolute pinnacle of British engineering.

And I am so ignorant now with all that I have learned. Oh, can you hear me?

Not.

I tell you.

I know what tell you.

I know you can be anything.

It just house me. It's helps me. Oh, you know this has a great.

It's helps a great.

Oh, it's helps me.

What is it? I am in touch. I am invincible in these sunglasses

I am the fons I am the jack of hearts

I am looking at you and you cannot tell I know more than the sum of my parts

I am looking at you with my best eyes and I wish you could tell. I wish all my kids would stop dressing

up like Richard Hell. I am locked away in a high-tech wrap around translucent blue-tinted

fortress and you cannot touch me.

I am invincible in these sunglasses.

I'm modern Scott Walker.

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