| Everything is intricate
|
| But being is so empty
|
| I’ve become dismantled
|
| Green with age and envy
|
| Where did all these cries
|
| Come for from the first
|
| Giving stimulation
|
| Projecting dying thirst
|
| This knowledge is but vague
|
| This answer is then clear
|
| This safety is not working
|
| You must then reappear
|
| There is no punctuation
|
| There is no chapter two
|
| No appeal of sentence
|
| Yet so much new to do
|
| If you loved me so much
|
| Would I make it worth your while?
|
| I’m smothered by your touch
|
| I am bruised to have your style
|
| In the rarest form, you’re pure
|
| Most common in the leer
|
| My knuckles are still bloody
|
| From wanting to be here
|
| My knuckles are still bloody
|
| From wanting to be here
|
| The aroma is still heady
|
| From wanting to be near
|
| My knuckles are still bloody
|
| From wanting to be here
|
| Wanting to be here
|
| Wanting to be here
|
| Wanting to be here
|
| Aunt Walter has left home
|
| Bobby doesn’t remember
|
| Where he left his tractor
|
| Aunt Walter wants attention
|
| I’m losing my patience
|
| Leave me alone, leave me alone
|
| Crayons are melting
|
| Teardrops are ice, spinning, spinning
|
| Breath like an alley exhaust fan (J.P.)
|
| Wanting to be here
|
| Wanting to be here
|
| Wanting to be here
|
| In the rarest form, you’re pure
|
| Most common in the leer
|
| In the rarest form, you’re pure
|
| Most common in the leer
|
| In the rarest form, you’re pure
|
| Most common in the leer |