I see waves forming from the undermouth Our time is ours for the while if we bathe in confidence I have been searching in the labyrinth Yearning for a thread to sink my passion in But you pull up your hair like wool from a sheep
It curls my hair and makes me wonder what tree I'll grow under The firmament is smoky now and I feel the fire But the picture freezes Nothing can appease this abstraction From concentration attrition to the wailing contrition
The piano sounds a symphony and I feel something is here for me The picture perfect in its pompous posture preparing propriety in ponder I hear the strings and feel them suckle me in I am a dreamer who has met his demise and now a dire desire to deliver a dirge on delicate design How I find and fly a song so on fire, But the cold
And the picture rolls like a pancake about to be tolled with more flavour I can taste it in my tongue and feel its beat on my chest Truly tee to tire tears of the flee where would I truly tinge and fly free?
Nowhere would I be if I could near the nigh neighbour from heaven next to me like a nest that nurtures nostalgia Oh what a view that smells like stew but powders like hue Now a dissident delinquent dead of dedication derelict in the deep How I near and chase the steeds, I guess I will just leap.