o hey will ya feel my beat
Just give it a listen for a sec will ya
***
Glowing orbs, magic thoughts and cheap mushrooms you can grow off of dead things.
How come people don't tell us when we're young...that this is free?
and that the best things are free, and that you CAN resurrect the dead
Why do I feel a lack of awesome people right now, and a bit o' lackluster love
(oh, it's there I know, you can feel it if ya dig, you can magnetize it out of people polarized by a little white forcefriend to make you feel better. The smiles are almost the same.)
Why do I feel like it's my time, my decision, to make a move and make the music, to create the light
SOMEONE HANDED ME THE GLOWING HOT POTATO WITHOUT MY PERMISSION
AND NOW I AM STARTING TO FEEL IT IN MY HANDS
they are aching to move...to find the rhythm
to "frict" the air in acute angles,
to tangle all the strands into a breeze
(making it cool to touch and)
tread on foot so lightly and with ease...
Life is meant to be breathed in
for those who CAN, even sometimes, sniff that sweet nostalgia and emotion out of thin air...
air that only keeps too many others' shallow hearts pumping, consuming
seething and heaving and sieving through their breathing
spinning earth into a stiff deserted snowball
soon our frozen fortness will not hold
The cracks will consume us all,
and the crux on which we've built our civilization will fall
it's not a big deal, is all
it's not a big deal, is all
I need to go spin some fire
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