I saw the golden hexagon

With so many angles it shifts through space

This spaceship earth moving into liquid

For all the gold melted into molten led

She put on some leather and rotated

Weather was ahead of her mind as cookies

What kind of hope can you cook up?

Does it overflow in a diamond cup?

What new whiskey can transportation begin?

The weekends which bravery consists

Is there a star that contains each wish?