The ground is cement with a small red carpet
this carpet is the pedestal the statue for trophies
upon which we stand presents the world here at hand
is the moonlight sonata of all that we gander.

Everything and more all the millions of shards and creations we make
all the lights and the cars
everything more, such a place as this is
the thickness of the air encapsulates the heart.

Something above, oh, and something within
beckons me closer to yell in the wind
something unfathomed un- guessed, yet untouched
lies opening doors for the broke and the ******.

The world here is ours if we decide it together and something above us
is guaranteed weather.
Whether or not we have everything ever,
we climb here to gander, to flit, and to tether.