I'm as weightless as a sacred Misinterpreted text Holding great ideas here tonight Lay by the side of believers beds I have my own reasons I have not responded yet When we're not in the same room You're not you, you just a guess I just want to be in a furnace Without feeling the heat Fake an anxious episode At the local, but be discrete I'm own idea Of how to dance all ideas free Shaking out all these dead wet branches Just to fall into the sea He met Stella on Thursday morning And saw that book in her bag She said it goes straight to the bedside Without ever being cracked We all have our reasons To invent the life we have Keep that light in you line of credit Until the banks collapse