Just so you look so godly
God, I wanna go into solace
Souls wild, like your goddess
That compares like the stress of wires
Her complexion bound by the conviction
Complacent, celadon, transient twisted like metaphysics
Grab my life by the metaphorical soul
Stop your marbling, talking to me from meddling fiddles
Trees calling you, reimburse your mass in properties and irradiation
Streets lit up, the weather was worse for leucistic jeans
Your journeys were chartered along the right corners, speaking
Trained stations swipe left, and life of the party
Teas and charts offal killing my lungs, pearls in my ostensible oyster
The kitsch of the cent, and last of us persons in the hundredth
Wake me up when September ends, as the life of December sees the light of the next year
October Sun call me during the rain on the parade, thoughts from the underground that doesn't see the rainy days
Rise, resplendent walk among the wilderness
The motionless moon paved out our moving shadows
The rain turned those into reflections, too
Sun comes out the somber smile, the December day
The November name, of the September slave
Sanctuary September, maybe
Wade through the wilderness of thirsty haze
Let me kick off on Wednesday, the life of the playful dalliance
Trained stations, impudent the prudent paved praise
Pray with criminals, and abandon the day of dandelions
On train circus stations looking for trained lions, Percy Bysshe Shelley
Looping me in the dream of moonlit inclination on the spark of the timeless wilderness