With my blue wide eyes, I see nothing but airplanes in the sky.
I reach up with my sun hands, trying to feel the warmth of the earth, but all I receive is cold world news. I consider myself a shape shifter, not able to camera talk since my message appears weak. I play my cards & quarters, ignoring the warning sign, about getting lost. Who knows who cares, words I carry deep in my heart, trying to live my cubism dream. There are stranger things in this world, that are held together with a sticky thread. It was always you & I, we just didn’t know it for so long, unable to move forward because of our heavy feet. We lay and look up at the ceilings, only to see a black spot millions of miles away. Riding breakers out into the sea, it's hard to believe only three months went by since I met you and you met me. Sometimes we get caught holding our black balloons, filled with feelings larger than a wooly mammoth. Remember our trip to Mt. Washington? We had that white stuff from Columbia, a week I’ll never forget. Reminded me of our first concert together at the The Bowery. It was in our Gorilla Manor, where we got Hummingbirds drunk, for no particular reason. We are nothing more than Local Natives, coinciding in a world too small, for the adventurists living inside us all.
