Losing the quiet for the sound
I wish all for nothing to be found
My lips aren’t moving till I see the one inside

The rat is where the moon should be
I’m such a ****, I couldn’t say
I’m a little noise in the sound
You are such a wonderful clown
So let’s go to wake them up
Our arms are winning at the spot

My elimination’s tropic sign
Spitting and laughter fill my mind
Carve inclinations beaming at the suit of sight

My illumination is writ
For the fun
Plotting every time in the grit
Lots of fun
Graining suffocation too
The room is having suffrage grooves

Guess all the times I haven’t got
Break to the air and leave a lot
Climb into nature with a sort of havoc spot