i feel the blue of the grass the orange of the skies love it's all gray like a glue and it ties
my brain made with rusty brass hugs with a lie on the floor they lie beside they're in the same tray poor mama saw that then she sighed and cried
night and day magical play darkness of the green painful it has been i have no'n to pay to pass trough the gate and there'll always be so grief miseries or paths of thorns with bloomed claries
horns white manes wings of unicorns teardrop rains ocean's pink the reaper winks soul is borne by crimson veins
gold berry teas in the final peace we'll be all gone without worn bones but the words of saints say stick and stones