He is watching the spectre of oblivion floating above from the skin of cacophony. catching the messages trying to fly. You gonna hand the silent expressions. Set the charades for a lonely rupture. Blinking the darkness, breaking the clone. Moments of shelter, moments of frown.
The circles close in overlapping the time. Warm mist emanates, trippy dance ensues. It was a moment the decades waited for.
You gonna shape the December falls of strawberries, wild. Or would blunder the signs of blinking? Enter the sun, enter the sun, enter the sun.
I am most obliged to you for making it naked here, my red shoes wondering who would be writing the paradise bizzare or bijaare or out in the love of winter
trumpets blow
so low slow
so so much smoke
so so so ragged evenings condensing into furtive evening
And the sea isn't in the place where it was, trees are beside the houses in the forests made of trees.
The sky rolls back and lines fold there creep and dust closes hard, blowing close.
_____________
Old men, where it all started.
The circles close in overlapping the time. Warm mist emanates, trippy dance ensues. It was a moment the decades waited for.
You gonna shape the December falls of strawberries, wild. Or would blunder the signs of blinking? Enter the sun, enter the sun, enter the sun.
I am most obliged to you for making it naked here, my red shoes wondering who would be writing the paradise bizzare or bijaare or out in the love of winter
trumpets blow
so low slow
so so much smoke
so so so ragged evenings condensing into furtive evening
And the sea isn't in the place where it was, trees are beside the houses in the forests made of trees.
The sky rolls back and lines fold there creep and dust closes hard, blowing close.
_____________
Old men, where it all started.
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