test-input.txt

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\033[0;31mChristmas friend\033[0m
This here is a song
It's about John W Smoke's Mom
It's with his Mom
It's about his mom it's about his mom
It's about lovin his mom
And bein' without his mom
And lovin' the hate that's hatin' the love
And verily verily it was 69 different nuns
Speaking simultaneously to John in 69 different languages
And then it evolved itself and it was the legless dog that became
A cyclone in John's father's forehead
And there it was like a twinkie with a halo storm in it
And it revolved down into the sky and talked to John
Like he was a little puppy himself
And John said that I am not the magma, I am not the crust
And I shall evolve when the rain had come down here and washed on John
And he said that I will be a cigarette butt before it's all done with
And they said no, you are the flame itself and you shall burn pure
In the South American sky where the blooddogs worship the stairway
And so brainlessly leglessly hairlessly the foil tipped up on itself
And revealed to John that the QE2, the luxury liner had extended out of John’s left side
And so it did bring to him in Mars with a scram backwards
And upwardly they did evolve
Downward they fell like a thin sheet of waste product that would come over John’s body
His body was no longer the primeval express himself
And he could not be the dog and the dog’s eyes which had blood comin' out like they were
Ropes around John’s leg and pulled him up, like he was a canoe and he flew
On the live presence himself, the South American where he was in love
Inside
Outside
This side
Foreside
Fromside
Overside