Those Legs
Get Up
And Start Walking
Then Hit And Missed
Those Targets
Of Lips
With Words Of Talking
Then Forgot To Feel
The Thoughts
I Had Been Thinking
Rows Of Conceptual
Ideas Slowly Sinking
To The Bottom Of
That Wishing Well
Where We Throw
All Our Coins
And Our Secrets
We Tell
then we wait,
wait, wait
Feeling Closer
To Hell
Still I Wait
At The Gate
But The Doors
Are Locked
He's Nowhere
To Be Found
That Fucking
Gatekeeper
Somewhere Sleeping
Asound.
Over My Shoelaces
I Keep Tripping
And The Paint
In This Room
Keeps On Chipping
But Next To Me
Angels Are Singing
I Am Deaf On Ears
All These Loud Noises
Are Ringing
And I Am Trying
To Keep Up With
This Rhyming
Forming Stanzas
A Beat Is Aligning
