We swirl like the dragons
Free from dungeons and darkness
In eternal salvation like salamanders
Although we aren't lizards hanging from trees
Hung up on life and disease
Breathing the air of autumn leaves
Dancing with the breeze, and ceasing to exist
Sending you our energies in the form of soft lullabies
If you can add to the good, you can keep away the evil
You can bring peace to yourself, and others in desperate need of quiet
You can be free from the peace of mind
Understand freedom in a nutshell, hanging like frescoed paintings
On top of a shelf of porridge and crimson red cherries, pears tresses
The parchment of each other, writing well within the textual framework of partridges in a pear tree
We can pray together, or remain silent forever
In vow of silence, and make lonesome Lumos shine bright like the kites running after in eros
Of the atmosphere, silenced forever, we sing lullabies for the ones to hear in their peace
A man with a peace of mind can understand silence and hold his tongue in the palm of murmurs
The sound swirls through the dungeon-like darkness, hunger for a touch of soil in the cold icy winters
We moon over these things, and it dawned on me that silence can last forever
And it isn't always good or bad
Sometimes it is evil to press and good to release yourself
Expand your mind, and be shapeless like water crashing against troughs flowing streams of fruit
Rivers could ripen, feel the song yonder deepen your soul
We wash these tears, from the eyes of agreeable people and disagreements come to me in a dream
These dreams are made of arguments and debates, I reason with myself unable to ever wake up in the morning
Howl from the depths of hell, and arrive on thin lands watching us with thin eyes like mirrors on cars, add what is specifically your own
Arrive in heaven, better to reign in hell
I'm lost in paradise on this ruin of thy moon and stars
Looking away from the fingers pointing at me like apples and bumps
Words are for the lugging carriage, to carry out their travels in their worlds from battered broken places
Wry comments from the crowd, and some cages of parakeets singing in kisses
Snakes in the grains of rice, stopping us from hissing from our caregivers and calling them unforgiving
Without food, I do not think I could live on
Without a mirror, I do not think I could live ignorantly with this hubris
Ran from the house at the age, I don't think I could live in such a cold climate
Raising my glass to my birthday invitees, they look at me blowing the birthday candles out, I'm in the seventh circle of Hell
Knells and bell tolls, ceramic steel galoshes, bitumen, and hydrophobic gum puts these dharma bums chewing grass together in apple streets full of cosmic debris
That look young and pretty, and pestering me with a limerick for some hypnosis and mirages in this solipsism
Aging like a dragon that used to burn out the flame of Hell, saving the morning again and again

If you're so cosmic, why don't you explain life to us from the Beezlebub spell, little dragon