How potent the poison is passion
A War in good fashion
The fog in the fields crash like waves that are massive
A passive polite the old man with the pipe but stills draws out his knife in the evening gun fight then explodes into flowers and casket
The light is too bright just to bask in
And tonight may be right for the captain
But i my dear friends are not fit for ammends i am neither the start or the finish
All must once end  like the rope and the pen and the pipe i just finished beginning