Hang with ceilings like a fan boredom body
Staring sideways at the endless sea.
And when I see the emerald waves
It makes me think of shattered boundaries.
Do the stars come crashing?
(Perform some ritual task)
Climb up off the carpet, and hope a couple hours passed.

Take a walk around the block, but you wallow in your thoughts.
Daydream by the creek about a girl with auburn hair.
She giveth an a-taketh, before I spaketh
(Strung-bound love-wound like flares)
Put myself on a pedestal, but I can’t take the staires.

Sitting in my mountain lair, making potions to fuck my head
Waiting for my spirit to at last return to me
Do the stars explode in fear this time?
Or do I leave the fuckin telescope behind?