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an empty muse on a full stomach |
i'm running backwards to catch up with myself. i am an endless jellybean whistle whoostle whee it explains everything that is every-so colorfully black and white i passed out but the turtle didn't seem to mind. i'll put it in a pickle jar and see what happens to time when those things are not here then the arrows are still beees of chickpeas holding a magenta fury but don't hurry the zombies are always going to be pass you it's all what's in front of you in front of you in front of you it's all what's is front of you that's all behind me kissy kissy i can't connect the wires don't seem to match up with eachother i'm getting tired of being tired let's pack everything into our pockets and wander the woods like lost little children you are a lost little child who doesn't know the meaning of your own smile your own frown your own thoughts why you're down down down down everyone fall down it's a beautiful place where you don't have to open your eyes to see except for me maybe just maybe there isn't enough air to go around the dinosaurs were never found just a little kid digging for something that's all in his head we're all an unwanted gift to the world where there are no exchanges makes me disenganged in this land of trade thought for food food for thought thought for thought shit i forgot change my reflection by simple selection choose which one which one of those ladies ladies in the window i should become change the world but change me first yellow red blue orange green! it's all in your head shadows of your thoughts breathe through vision thoughts burn igniting through the cold humid sea of skin sparks of their reflection ricochet off the black oily streets of a jealous night's sky back into your thoughts let's dream together while we die open our hearts only to hear them cry obscenities salt the open gash consciousness is a contageous rash i'll fight for a thought i'll kill for a feeling i'll murder for a desire i'd kill myself but there's nothing left to kill home is closed for the season go back to where you thought you began copyright copyright |