He wanted to be accepted
By those he had rejected
Thought the poppers would feel blessed
If allowed just one day of rest
Thought they'd savor the King's scraps
Even if it meant scrounging around like rats
Thought they'd never dare complain
For even one day of his reign
Wasn't the King surprised
To see the commoners got wise
They stormed the castle through
And found him hiding in a shoe
Everyone laughed, what a tiny little thing!
Who knew you'd have to be a mouse to be bigger than the King

In a world of so many
There are but a few
Let's be honest,
Just you
Who can move me to oceans
And drop me from mountains
Who can tear down my redwoods
And turn my deserts to fountains
Yes, in a universe with so many
There are really so few
Let's be honest,
Just two

Is my car really that good on gas?
I mean think about it...
And, what's that spltoch on the ceiling that's been here since I moved in a decade ago, and is now starting to look like a gigantic two-headed cherub? What is that brownish stain actually made of?
I mean think about it...
And, is Philip Michael Thomas still alive?
I mean think about it...

Mind blowing

A four-point waist
stitched around pulverized leaves of a glorious taste
Get out the porcelain and please
take your time
There's no reason to race
Grab a sour or perhaps some honey
Grab something to curl up with
Sad or funny
It's a perfect day, if you'll just let it be
And there's no better way to start it
Than a nice cup of tea

Cranberries leaves and walnuts all mixed together
With a crumbly cheese that tastes like leather
Here's a tin can
Maybe that will taste better
The way you jump on that roof
Makes you seem almost aloof
I'd trade places with you, I say
But it's my 40th birthday
Maybe tomorrow...

But I don't feel happy
And I don't have any hope
I can't find inspiration
Instead I just mope
I won't allow in a spirit
Long ago sold my soul
My ears just won't hear it
My brain's gate is closed
I've been 12 and 100 since the day I was born
Too young to appreciate breath
And too old to mourn
I want to run away
I need some new air
But wherever I go
I'm already there

I've lost a bunch of notebooks in my time
But I filled some up with lonely vines
Cloaked in thorns, so they'll be fine...
But what about you?
It seems your bleeding from your spine