Believe you can fly, kids. Climb up to the roof, throw some leaves against the wind and float like a butterfly, weighed down by a heavy rain. Feel the crack of the back as the agony attacks and they're calling for an ambo trip. Dream big, dream large, dream you're getting off of this barge. One day it turns around, you're off the ground spewing pea soup with no abound.
Daddy dear on your case, making haste, smacking toothpaste from your face. But don't look back, walk away, all it is is yesterday. And your troubles seem so far away.
Time to shine and steal those rocks, find the shop with three balls to hock. But no funds when nothing comes and it goes when it goes, you don't know. Here's the deal on this steal. No receipt from the dead and from the grave they're still ahead. Time to move was time ago, what you want you can't know.
Questions, questions, questions. Always with the endless questions.
The Streisand effect is watching you watching who watching what you don't want to do. In the clear and over the breach, some times you just want to sleep. None of that and nothing more, nothing comes like the day before. On the run, against the gun.
There is no trance like Mola Ram. Unless you're in with the five rock clan. And here's the rub under your feet, they don't count unless two plus three. Count the rocks, count them off. Take them off at the dock. Water's wet, leave your socks.
Worry, worry, worry. Ain't gnaw party like a rabid party because a rabid party requires shots and care with enough lead time to ensure participants do not break the skin prior to the effects having worn in and defeated any parasites. Please consult either a doctor or veterinarian.
Frets in the mind, frets in the hand, friends make a merry band. Pick a story and make it yours. Live wild, live free, live the only life you're going to need. Take some notes and learn to run, cause, baby, you bore the sun.
Rewind, take a breath and start again.
From the top, but don't look down.
Written on Tuesday, 9 October 2012