And to be where, a place, somewhere or someplace
Pressed against the sugarcoat of greatness, on its slim chest
Wanting to be fresh, wanting to be there in regular frequencies
And to clench the study, light up the reason and smile at treason
And breathe the swollen air.
Five stories high on schools and vows,
And the daytime is now for the witnesses to ascend,
Down the flights of fine friends to an eternal lie.
But breathe the swollen breeze, squall easy the Heath.
Recall the sights of shining bends to the fitness of avowed wreaths.
Can the hourglass silhouette, quicksand the land of bets
Days that stood still to kill the man of crass nets,
And be the becoming that becomes the being for startling
A wrecked starting that the quicksand pulls in majors and minors, minus and plispl,
Taming the gaming blame, gambling the flaming shadow of belief, to release a relief, to catch a thief.