I burnt up on reentry
Circle diamonds, raining from my hands
Candied memories kept up with me lethargically
Sunburnt from too many feelings

I seem to see into the past
Must be these radio teleplays I hear when I fly
Foggy and fast
Falling is a more accurate term

Piano and guitar with which I rehearse
Leaning off the coast with a bottle of Crown Apple
Just peeking into states and times
With my ever solid monologues
And fondness for your hair