Mulberries are growing twenty, thirty years from now
Every season goes along in dirt the whole month round
I want everything to take a shorter piece of time, but
Time will take your peace if everything is what you try
I'm shorted
Out but if a sunrise willed me off of this sand trial i'd
Perspectivise the breeze and fly above this standing style
It's a late reply to love's connective thistles in the air, but this'll
Get me there today for windy fun times, if i'm scared
That it's a temporary fixture maybe that's just for the best because I
Went to fix your craziness ten years before the rest. without a
Mixtape in my ears i'm dressed in existential dread; my sunday
Worst is blessed and quick enough to choke on daily bread
I told them once that it's not personal but they still purse their lips, my
Lipton Plastic™ tastes like cordial that i don't wanna drink
I've kicked my tea addiction but my instruments are full of milk
And silky skills are useless if the fiction complements a brick
Compliments are sticky cause we're only at the start and less
Encouragement would maybe make for better works of art but that's a lofty train of thought. let's hit the Brakes because ungrateful modest
Pride can kill you if and when you find it down inside.
Look at me! i'm saying words! hey, what a clever kid, they told me
All of that for my whole life for everything i did and now it
Makes me so uncomfortable of anything from then, cause no one
Cares now, city cynics sitting primly in their dens, but when i
Went to Megalopolis i lost this airy drowse and driven now to
Productivity and force of mental rouse i have to
Drive a car and write a song and share it all around, but i
Still don't know the point of why i'm getting off the ground
I do know one thing though, and that's that writing's feeling right
A rite of right-left rhyming passage through a massive desert guided by a
Western sensibility of grandpa in the sky and an
Unexpected nudge every now and then