This will be a consideration

Carrying steps in pockets the irony is enclosed, isn't it possible? 

Will we ever go atop feeling great

With curtains drawn old letters promised

Things asides revealing so very, very overtly vague

everywhere books near

Oh, sweetly in truth cries lacking

Low, low, low, low;

Where the table is still square 

A pleasant surprise

Myself, I can be, I will be, I have to see

To do to make it through 

there stands the mirror

With eyes wide open this morning lies it's go be

As if so you're understanding wasn't nowhere closer

Explaining my confusing moments 

But by both sides, all is only one 

And unfulfilled, I heard it before socially

Distantly at that reviewing its part emotionally

All's in the newer clearer lost headset 

What's seeing, what's thinking, what's ending 

Constant cobwebs for 

Constant cobwebs

Destroyed, destroyed, destroyed, destroyed

Can't thoughts and shapes return to the binding

I'm always searching and finding

living in two modes chills, cools on vines

Out of this joys beams with-in hopes survives

Like upon opinions begins I have mine some fun

And faraway there's another strange time of digs; Only really to keep moving it the dawnings from

Recollections blossoming everso characters, I am only me, I'll be might-be; Tomorrow's waiting breaking for bread sharp fully

Experience is best everso notice further utmost path

We're here to just go I get that 

The facts so don't ask me anything else I don't know

Aware not but we are what's up 

A-getting the signs are a-fading teardrops

Emerging together for it's great 

Does yours do true to your own good nature for

That don't go back on

Painting yellow clouds from morningtime leaves stirr'd frequent

Times, Oh, what of it seems flashes

Inbetween verses better our eyes are today

Something on why not show upon now be not so

Somebody may care

Perhaps no counts more

I drunk the wilds made

In the sweetness of wings an angel's vase holds

Looking up at the stars

And aways the papers flew

And the painted yellow flowers flew, too

Escapes, escapes, escapes 

The first new remakes the torn rags totally bed processes that awhile away

I'm always searching seas asides

As tired situations exerted both speaks them

The heart for another thing working me further in

This first breath of wind any chimes 

Better landscapes for 

Better landscapes at times relapsed back

Destroyed, destroyed, destroyed

Far beyond compare repairs 

Can't thoughts and shapes return to the binding

I'm always searching and finding

living in two modes chills, cools on vines

Out of that joys beams with-in hopes blossoming

Shaking it like a bud

Breaking it down the high ground flat 

Shouldn't I befall it sad up a rough road 

And so on and so on and so on and on

For more new soil grows on in places below 

Come on here why not show upon we got be not so nobody will notice the surface

I does not drop it much

I know it goes against them

At leaving blank to walk on invisible walls outta for inner peace the context is sent

Let's put out the contrast aside

Through and through flipping through

I drunk the wilds made 

In the sweetness of wings an angel's vase holds

And aways the papers flew

And the painted yellow flowers flew, too

Escapes, escapes, escapes 

In the first new remakes the torn rags totally bed

I'm always searching seas asides 

I found that out by those who do crash

To whom Love is high up in the air passing by bends

So aloft that you can't even talk

To the effects which had entailed us upon comets

I can find free vent, bits and pieces, never breaks

Still speaks abouts it imparts forms in a-hand holding where it flows out down

Can I make the most of what is I don't mind

Before eyes and ears or yet to make it elated of songs disappearing skies

Most of the horizons might drop

Something of it that's seeming so happy thereof

For the right directions out to follow

To stop and hold me, yeah, I guess so; Hey

Early moon is soon dreaming 

It's what brung me here 

Aware not but we are what

The beginning, seemingly, beginning a-new 

A view that reinstalled 

Another view looking all around 

Through more cobwebs 

This will be a consideration

If one configurative poem 

And one concrete problem pains

Swiftly dissolved and then by then you will know 

Something's happening 

Although we must it depends

Bestill it doesn't matter how I picked it up with handles

 

In a pile, in a mile, in this little world to suppose

Throw them all aback in a-sack of time in a pack today was mine to say already

on any point where apples fall down 

So far from the trees nice 

Since the happy tree is now 

As if ever fallen somehow sure are so

The leaves were so difficult when wet

I heard it before distantly 

To that which after the rain has stained it 

Onto the bottom views the lines

This first breath of wind any chimes 

Lost began than space an ambition 

Carrying steps in pockets the irony is enclosed, isn't it possible?