I looked her weary way
She saw my wary eyes
She turned away …

At some point there was a point
That point is no longer sharp
The blade that once pierced my mind
Now places its cold edge against my heart

You are the white and the black of me
We are all the colors in between
The white is frosting
The black is cake
The colors in between are the candles
We are the flame
Make a wish

As my mind started to kick-in I got a whiff
The smell of a rich Columbia brew
My Grandpa was a Jew and so was my Mom
My Mom married a Protestant  
A good brew

As my mind started to kick-in I got a whiff
The smell of a rich Columbia brew
My Grandpa was a Jew and so was my Mom
My Mom married a Protestant  
A good brew

Once there was this guy
He sat around; He stood-up and even walked around
Sometimes when the sun started to set, he would hitch a ride
He would go where most people would not dare
He did not have much hair
Well you see … that was only up there
In the places he went … there were no combs
And he had no hair

Was all bright and warm
Ran around a cold pond
A structure of knowledge
It had all the ground
Hope abounds …
for a few coins in the pond
I (WE) habituated a few clicks away
At lust we think that way
Cast a line in looking for a strike
A hit on this and then a hit on that
Got a bite … it wiggled off
Some where too big to reel in
Did I use the right bait
Maybe I would look better in a hat