I gave Flux 3 the penultimate lines of Eliot's The Wasteland， which involve both switches in tone and in language. I had it read by a modern Fisher King as a city decays behind him. The results were surprisingly good.

I sat upon the shore Fishing， with the arid plain behind me Shall I at least set my lands in order？ London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down Poi s'ascose nel foco che gli affina Quando fiam uti chelidon-O swallow swallow Le Prince d'Aquitaine à la tour abolie These fragments I have shored against my ruins