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A menagerie of green is sleeping silently at ease |
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If the wind hummed both our mothers' favorite hymnal song. |
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And though |
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I felt indignant 'bout the cause of the events, |
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It was apparent very early |
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I was no the cause. |
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Oh fee and fie, oh foe, and then fum, |
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There is a giant looming over us. |
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While she wants what she wants. |
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Just summer seeds planted in recklessness. |
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So very very lightly on the strings of what we are, |
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There is a hollow yellow yelling at the stars tonight. |
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While feuding fading fury sunk in deeply to the bone |
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As if they'd tried to figure out what they would like to try. |
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While you and |
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I and everyone else, |
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We have no clue what we are doing here. |
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But we want what we want |
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And never thought that we could want too much. |
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And though |
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I speak, These words do not mean, |
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That I have ever really had an understanding. |
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Or can I try, |
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To do what |
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I like, And hope that there is nothing gained from this pretending. |
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So I am born, |
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From now till |
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I'm gone, |
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When I leave |
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I won't be waiting on forever. |
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All my life |
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I've done what |
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I liked, Though there are times that |
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I have wanted to be better. (I shall be, All that I can see, Floating in and out, Of this life.) (But I have found, These words do not resound, But float among our sleeping eyelids.) (When night descends, And lays me in my bed, I'll turn to face the silence morning.) |
