Drive-bys on the road
**** your darlings
I will put sunshine your shoals
Be on the shore of doubt, as we move to seas
The crossing distance between the hiatus and cars
Trailer park homes seem welcoming, in this jungle of fire
My heart's one and only desire is to love you
I hope I don't get lost in the wrong pyromania
Maniacal as it may seem, I want your conscious mind for me
To make my important decisions, relatable if it is
We will breathe with the breeze that freezes in between
Lost at the heralds of the emerald sea, shining like cerulean waters
I'm not sure, I want the fire of desire or the waters of peregrination
Journeyman follow my command, I guess I asked too much of you
Or of your lost hope, in this drowning breeze that flows in eddies and currents
Love is just a flowing desire, fluid like water and sordid like fire
The feeling is on fire, and the desire's the only real thing
I can't generalize really, you make the conclusive evidence of my lovely concepts
You're sure, that's me or you, in this world of roundabout cities and largest dreams
Circumference of this ring of fire is which is perfectly wrapped around my ring finger
Is this the old me, or am I looking for old ways
Passing through stores, and running looking for summer kool-aid
This summer smells nice, so does the stagnant dreams
Waiting to flower like blossoming buds, in a collection of hanging things
I'd list these thesis items down, but, they're too educated for my taste
It's my light, and shining it on the wrong people, is pretty much how a broken flashlight works
Words rhyme inadvertently with some intention, insane isn't it
That you agree with others and tell children to sit down
Might and dry winds change these crossing starry-eyed loner stoners
I base myself to disabuse the **** out of every situation
But, it's not in my purchasable items
Looking for weights to carry, and burdens too run away with
No machine, am I, I am dead just like the onus that can be apolitical at times
Love them two times
Love them three times
They just seem to fade with the count, like natural numbers
Patterned and woven like dreadlocks of legendary pathos
Little did I know, to do what I say as the money keeps me awake
That's the logic I follow, it's a statement without purpose
Bridling pots, I can't relate
The time's changing, so that's what they say?
This **** is cooked and raw, at the same time
Like woks on earth's water and fire, fiefdom asks for too much
Pertinently I ask for their grace
With petulance, I ask for favors
These aren't a few of my favorite things, at least they are temporary