I can't tell if the winds beat the winding road..
I can't tell if this was the ocean I've said to have rode..
Button bells and candle spirits won't keep me here in pain for long..
Raining tropics and snowy plains will make you where I belong..
Nothing will be as hard or harder it will seem for you,
For nothing in its nothingness will ever keep you from I, and I from you..
If the hectic abusive world of normality was to be split in two,
Think of the all the endless adventures we'd devour into.
Sonic burdens will not broaden our day,
For the muse of simplicity will come out to play.
Picnicked, Railroaded, and Trashed we've seen...
Beyond the allowing boundaries of a hateful scene..
"No trickery was done in this darkroom", yet the fear is there.
All the negatives pile up - broken in contrast of what became 'their'.
Seeing the movie screen roll onto and onwards from the plastic reel,
Fooled by the marks of production, what is fantasy and what is real?
Bounded by skins that weren't our face