She had seen a glowing screen that emitted queens Whose skin haven't touched the sun's cheeks But had bathed in the moon lit's creeks It glowed and beamed like a seam with a sheen So she loathed and loathed; hated how bronze she is She sought remedies; burying her color in sleeves
Hear her, o deities; she's down on her knees She had thrown about a millenium worth of pennies Hear her, o deities; whisper secrets into her ears Cast away her insecurities crystallizing into fears Tell her, she need not strip her cinnamon hue To trade for a porcelained debut Tell her, she wore rust colored armor Stronger and more radiant than Helios's summer Tell her, a crown awaits in a far away throne She can also be queen even in her earthly tones Tell her, to embrace what she hates For her honey dripped shade need not to be ashamed
My morena queen, snatching everybody's glance Like a finely baked bread seen in a window in France With hairlocks in the rhythm of romance Like a finely chopped chocolate Oozing with a bouquet of sweetness and a hint of fate Oh how she wore beauty like a swan waltzing in a lake
big blue big blue, two two big blue to see big blue sky like crayon on canvas crazy how big blue is crazy how I have two blue always drawn to big brown two big brown drawn to brown like crayon draws land land under big blue big sky blue eyes look for brown land and sea, too crazy you have brown I have blue we have two you take blue crayon I take brown draw land on you and you draw big sky or sea all over me I am blue brown is you kissing crazy cos now blue is brown brown is blue land has sea sea makes sky crazy crayons blue brown eyes you and I.
there's an awesome sound dripping brown drugged up and laid down by brothers from other mothers in their new hope town making up rifts and ******* around are you picking up the sound that i found? can u taste the waste? keek up the pace? of stroker ace? or their country greats? some worship god some dance with satan they're in betWeen dichotomies breakin' and you know they're makin' pork roll, egg, cheese and bacon! and gravy fries mutilated lips and pure guava eyes
A tribute to one of my favorite bands, Ween. They've got a really vast catalog. Their early music is often described as "brown" which they define as "****** up in a good way"
I feel like a toffee rose petal with touches of the snapdragon blush brushing into burnt umber somehow and barely holding the weight of water droplets that have built up, piled on, drowned me from years and years of thunderstorms
and yes, the title is like that for a good reason.
Wrought-wide eyes from catching clouds on the safety of our backs Who's lifting who dried-up with the fossils, tucked away at Jack's Can you capture the oily maze of Perla, Gary, Glen AND Dee? We should cap the treasure trove. Just one shell. Alright... three.
Passenger mats drowned long ago in quartets of sandy shoes They're coming around to dukkah, but beetroot's an ongoing feud. We'll find our way back to purple-brown after art class in year nine Until then just squeeze my hand when they see "****" every time.
Curse words stowed beneath our necks, cellared with the red wine. Pull binoculars out in twenty years to seek parrots in sun spines. Trick them into dusking walks, the promise of ice cream at Kateri Squealing across Eileen's golden grain, I hope they pick Rasberry.
He swirls the sand beneath him and burrows his sweet brow. She builds bridges for fairies and writes names in stick-crayon. I'll say they're just like us, one day when they can stand it least Until then their just like you dreamboat, floating down my east.