| Wait for a fall, and you’d want to try and recall,
|
| Times spent in better days, wasting a glorious afternoon.
|
| Think back to summer and you’d want to,
|
| But I’m losing you this time.
|
| Can’t decide if I mind.
|
| Think back to summer and you’d want to,
|
| But I’m losing you this time.
|
| When oceans earn the right to dry up,
|
| And stars have fallen earthward by the score.
|
| Ah! |
| The end reeks of familiar,
|
| Of ever after me to you.
|
| Final her flames are beautiful,
|
| Close your eyes and close me out of sight.
|
| We’re not for certain cut. |
| Desire,
|
| That calls me back to you and loses time.
|
| Sold, expired, retarded, burnt out,
|
| Will you still kiss my charred remains?
|
| Oh your face looks like an angel,
|
| Lips and lids are closing, it’s alright.
|
| «I never printed too hard with the Allaways,
|
| (When oceans earn the right to dry up,)
|
| We riddled cradles to coffins, spastics to boffins,
|
| And threw ourselves in line with the universe expanding.
|
| (And stars have fallen earthward by the score.)
|
| With all the trinkets clutching, you deserved,
|
| To force a post into history you’d reserved.
|
| I never printed too hard with the Allaways.
|
| (Ah! The end reeks of familiar,)
|
| I know you heard it before, but we all came from the stars,
|
| And these protons and nucleus are all we really are.
|
| I never printed too hard with the Allaways,
|
| (Of ever after me to you.)
|
| And sent a D.N.A. |
| code into traction,
|
| It’s got a sigil of an overbite, ah! |
| ah!
|
| And now it’s spinning like a wheel,
|
| Like a chakra in reverse.
|
| It’s got a reason to print with me everyday,
|
| (Final her flames are beautiful,)
|
| Was I merely a blip along the way?
|
| And over and ever forever it’s finite,
|
| Over and ever forever infinite,
|
| (Close your eyes and close me out of sight.)
|
| On thin ice.
|
| It’s breaking in transmutation.
|
| And it’s born again,
|
| And it gets formed again.
|
| And it’s coming back in two,
|
| And now it’s coming back two times.»
|
| «I never printed too hard with the Allaways,
|
| (We're not for certain cut. Desire,)
|
| We riddled cradles to coffins, spastics to boffins,
|
| And threw ourselves in line with the universe expanding.
|
| (That calls me back to you and loses time.)
|
| With all the trinkets clutching, you deserved,
|
| To force a post into history you’d reserved.
|
| I never printed too hard with the Allaways.
|
| (Sold, expired, retarded, burnt out,)
|
| I know you heard it before, but we all came from the stars,
|
| And these protons and nucleus are all we really are.
|
| I never printed too hard with the Allaways,
|
| (Will you still kiss my charred remains?)
|
| And sent a D.N.A. |
| code into traction,
|
| It’s got a sigil of an overbite, ah! |
| ah!
|
| And now it’s spinning like a wheel,
|
| It’s like a chakra in reverse.
|
| It’s got a reason to print with me everyday,
|
| (Oh your face looks like an angel,)
|
| Was I merely a blip along the way?
|
| And over and ever forever it’s finite,
|
| Over and ever forever infinite,
|
| (Lips and lids are closing, it’s alright.)
|
| On thin ice.
|
| It’s breaking in transmutation.
|
| And it’s born again,
|
| And it gets formed again.
|
| And it’s born again,
|
| And it gets formed again.» |