Forcing my way out of sleep. I inhale the smell of spring and greens. And bucket loads of bees. Migraine's been all of over me. The softest meadow would've cracked my head.
When there is light from up above. Then there will come a sacred dove. To the basement, to the basement. . When there is fear you won't have to cry. Napkins are here, they'll dry your eyes.
One hundred thousand cars have passed this house. The celebration starts with laughter. . Can it be that we're not clean?. The days have turned to haze.