The plank will nod, and you will go
Hello Chasm, you friendly endnote
With a few well placed swords.
Hello Dawn, maternal grey that hasn't decided to meet the suns demands.
It was that bastard with the line,
The man we call finish
The place that nothing cross.
He does not see a palm, a hue
He sees you hurl towrd him, and snaps
Just when there's a rhyhtm get a little bit of salt in your eye,
The price of living, get a little bit of love and you die.
Stay underwater, only comming up a minimal time.
Write a letter to the hidden girl under the line,
I read it all and let it be known
I got a knew kind of gramar, article prone,
And so but tearing you apart at the dome,
Hal calls in from a particle phone, original syn-tactical drone.
"For whom is this supposedly fun?"
Dave: nil/OED: one
A different set of normals, like winning a crying contest
Like looking at your eye in the mirror before.
Telling the glass guy where to blow it,
The lowest form of flattery, my crushing you.
Play not the space above the instrument,
Tie your hammock to the sky and take your leave.
But the king pales to eventually that people will say,
A full sail doesn't matter if your boat is a fake.
Pink whale you imagine with an elephant face
In the pool not invited to your personal wave.
Get bent, get a new meaning out of the shape.
Get straight, get a new mouth out of the pain.
Open up and the words come tumbling in.
No fair, get a bump and you're humble again.
You don't really want to trouble your friends,
You don't really want to suffer the lens.
You don't really want to...
And you call your friends and you make list and you pick up a pen and you stare at it
And you set up a screen and you miss what you miss and you want to believe when she praises it.
And theres not enough light and a whole lot of fish, and more to process than you're comfortable with
And the water is clean and the words feel right, but the eye...
What did you see? What did it mean?
For whom was it fun, the setting sun?
How does one speak without being seen?
How does one make the plank break?
How does one leave the silent mark?
How does one play the final part?
What did you see? What did it mean?
How does one make the plank break?
I see a dark proposition:
The black hole with glittering teeth, the one condition.
The dust on your tongue clotted with apologies,
The topology of a noose, prefix porn.
The glow, the glare
And Lull, sulking like a kid in the corner.
Still, after all the dirty rungs ascent,
The scalding coin above, your family below,
The plank will nod and you will go.
And you call your friends and you make a list and you pick up a pen and you stare at it.
And you set up a screen and you miss what you miss and you try to believe when she praises it.
And there's not enough light and a whole lot of fish and more to process than comfortable with.
And the water is clean and the words feel right, but the eye...
What did you see? What did it mean?
For whom was it fun, the setting sun?
How does one speak without being seen?
How does one make?
What do you see now? What does it mean now?
How did you make out the last shape?
What do you see now? What does it mean now?
How do we fill the blank page?
What do you see now? What does it mean now?
Why did you take out the final joke?
What do you see now? What does it mean now?
How do you tell the plank no?