There is some kind of madness in this world
that paralyzes, and makes all the sunsets appear in sad little puddles
divided, and broken down narrow city streets
and it's been a warm and mad summer
full of what is normal, but strange - hardly any bugs
and things are as they are: normal and mad
It's been a summer of talk and talk is normal, but not always mad
not always true or distorted or candy coated
but this summer there is plenty of candy at play
and plenty of truth and good old fashion lies, all normal
and many pray like romans these days
asking for the sweet toffee madness to be delivered
on cool carmel apples in the bugless heat of a summer swell
the summer pulses like a heart watching and dwelling in the heat
overheating, unswollen, and normal baking in the sun like a scarecrow
droned and hollow to the sight, all normal
soon the summer will fade, make a transition without notice
and flop lifelessly on the ground like a fish
all the lucky prayers, and candymen will join hands and rejoice
walking in a circle around the lifeless summer scarecrow fish
with madness in their eyes, all normal, sweaty, and bugless
maybe evil, but evil is normal
maybe better, but better is never defined just right
and all will be glad and normal
for fall is here
and we've written, finally, the book of life
