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Before I spoke in riddles, I was worried someone would hear me |
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Now I know that no one really listens so I will just speak clearly |
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I don't have private thoughts, just a lyrical worksheet |
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For mangling my observations on the meter and the beat |
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And in the process of it, on every line |
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Sooner or later I'll have to change the meaning to fit the rhyme |
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But back in the skylight all of the stars |
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Turn into sound and then they shout down at me |
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Though they are far away, they shout so loudly |
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I think I may know what they're saying to me |
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It's on the tip of my ear; it's almost palpable! |
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I have to listen closely and get my mind around it! |
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And when I understand it I'll just transcribe it |
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This time when I write it down I'll do it faithfully |
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I won't try to rhyme it |
