It’s all a bit of a dream
Don’t you think?
Nothing’s ever certain
And once you know something
It’s all crystal clear
But just wait, soon
You’ll begin to question, wonder
Possibly forget
And be back at square one
So what should you build from there?
Well
I have a house
That’s a **** good place to start
Cement goes into the cauldron
Goopy soupy and delicious
It bubbles of beginnings, and permanence
As it boils and squeals in the background of the world that surrounds
Me, I drift off into space
Who knew a few random fumes could get you high!
I see a dancer
A girl in bright blue torn tights, with a boy next to her,
and a friend
She’s a good student
But
She gets terrible grades
And there’re flowers all over her bed
You could call her a bumblebee the way she wraps her self
In them and inhales
Softly
She never cries
Well not that often
And when she does she regrets it
Things aren’t too serious with her
Depression, adhd, death available,
Verbs and adjectives far too strong
She can taste manipulation
People throw things around in her world,
And she’s been programmed to throw back
It hurts
With each hit her opponent brings to the rink
She often wonders if it’s all that bad. Tough, in a lonely sort of way
But every now and then
A breeze rolls on by
With a window
Always open
Honey, black tea, paper
Blurrrr
And it’s back to the grey soup of the day
But the spoons getting harder and harder to stir
Time’s running out
What is there that could possibly change?
A few things unlock this path… but which one should I choose?
No sé
No sé no sé
No sé
I should be me…
But honestly
Who am I?
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 4:48 AM UTC
It’s all a bit of a dream
Don’t you think?
Nothing’s ever certain
And once you know something
It’s all crystal clear
But just wait, soon
You’ll begin to question, wonder
Possibly forget
And be back at square one
So what should you build from there?
Well
I have a house
That’s a **** good place to start
Cement goes into the cauldron
Goopy soupy and delicious
It bubbles of beginnings, and permanence
As it boils and squeals in the background of the world that surrounds
Me, I drift off into space
Who knew a few random fumes could get you high!
I see a dancer
A girl in bright blue torn tights, with a boy next to her,
and a friend
She’s a good student
But
She gets terrible grades
And there’re flowers all over her bed
You could call her a bumblebee the way she wraps her self
In them and inhales
Softly
She never cries
Well not that often
And when she does she regrets it
Things aren’t too serious with her
Depression, adhd, death available,
Verbs and adjectives far too strong
She can taste manipulation
People throw things around in her world,
And she’s been programmed to throw back
It hurts
With each hit her opponent brings to the rink
She often wonders if it’s all that bad. Tough, in a lonely sort of way
But every now and then
A breeze rolls on by
With a window
Always open
Honey, black tea, paper
Blurrrr
And it’s back to the grey soup of the day
But the spoons getting harder and harder to stir
Time’s running out
What is there that could possibly change?
A few things unlock this path… but which one should I choose?
No sé
No sé no sé
No sé
I should be me…
But honestly
Who am I?
