|
I need a taste |
|
I can almost face myself |
|
There is a way, a never-ending pavement cast |
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Land on a date such a long, long way, way back |
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Which has a crave for the path that ends in black |
|
I gotta fade another day |
|
I can taste it, |
|
I can feel it |
|
And you can have, you can have my face right now |
|
Standing back from the lapse |
|
Children are what you are |
|
Tim Gilbert weighs internally more than the scales say |
|
Carries a weight such that no eyes see in air |
|
Jean Nealy views from a place where time is flat |
|
She sees a haze that could penetrate more black |
|
She's gotta seize who sees |
|
And she wants to live in lightning |
|
God, shrinking multiplicity you are |
|
And you can have, you can have my fate right now |
|
Another grave, another blank |
|
Children are what you are |
|
Landscapes come and pass my way |
|
Vision goes in a car |
|
What you say, another day |
|
Above you, you mostly are |
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And in the cradle, a newborn babe |
|
Is a dot in the war |
|
Spreads its wings, intervenes |
|
Human atop a star |
