This world of reality is building systems in my mind. Its infected me with desire and passion. Struck rapidly with creativity I see blocks need moving to fit in better suspense to balance out the scales. Its wisdom from the soul breathing out of my throat. Thinking lines of words streamed together can bend the fabric that so softly covers. I am no mute dummy to fall for lies; I can see beyond the bright sunlight. Am I the only one to look up? I guess its heard to often to stare down. Its been confirmed to many times to be thought different.
Children the great clean slates they are curve lines out of anything, bending to attention a desperate act of poor concentration. Skinny and starving they are dumb which leaves them clever. Can they out think an old granite rock into thinking?
Bend those wings around your arms and soar...find peace within the misty clouds leave droplets running down glass windows. Make them stop the movement and start the revolution. Fit here fit there cut a corner and make it fit where ever.
Misery lurking between decisions and placement.
Sometimes we never had a chance and sometimes we failed to take the chance.
Children the great clean slates they are curve lines out of anything, bending to attention a desperate act of poor concentration. Skinny and starving they are dumb which leaves them clever. Can they out think an old granite rock into thinking?
Bend those wings around your arms and soar...find peace within the misty clouds leave droplets running down glass windows. Make them stop the movement and start the revolution. Fit here fit there cut a corner and make it fit where ever.
Misery lurking between decisions and placement.
Sometimes we never had a chance and sometimes we failed to take the chance.
You are right.. this is madness in an unfamiliar form.