When the images collide
In a swirling dark lovely heaven
That’s when
I’ll really be able to see you.

You’re filled brimming with flowers
And choked lyrical flow
For a girl that doesn’t exist
Are you sure?

She can’t cut you with her fingers
Like you sang about off key
She won’t float through your photographs
Like I’d hope to.

Born in a bottle rocket
Couldn’t quite describe her.
But she was.
She had to be born somewhere.

Sitting in a soda fountain at the edge of the world.
Her in her nightgown
You with your two heads.
Don’t spill your malt into the abyss, dears.

The girl in the moon is grinning down at you
While licking her white lily chops.
She’d gobble your songs if you’d let her.
Floating up like cigarette smoke.