Chance brought me down on your side. She's just along for the ride. Wings melt and we hide. And all this means nothing to the sun.. Are we leaving this one?.
I'm thinking of your wide open eyes. Smiling as they feed the nerves. That push the field of silver and the colorful lines. That only you could see, like only you could do.
I'd like your hair long and laid on to the ground. You'd prefer an astronaut. Someone to relate to and someone to command. And I would be a simple man.
Morning gray ignites a twisted mess of foreign shapes and sounds. I wish the ceiling was the ground. I'll send you flowers made of silent tiny pieces of the sun.