sittin' here
groovin' out, loosin' out
on a world with tacks for hands
in my underwear nodding off to some
dream about
something i dream about
being lost in a world full of brush to clear
mountain laurels obstructing my there to here
and disjointed sentences
drawing nearer than near
does this make any sense?
im asking
does anyone sweat like this?
sweat drops moist as a kiss
does anyone dream like this?
i wonder
this can't even be this
its just a mist
in this rainstorm of parading pedals
and weight falling like a black anvil
sittin' here, staring at the ceiling and
what a thing it becomes
black and heavy
i can't believe it, by god
its bliss
