Head out
Pinned my despair to a ledger line
A printout
The blood moon had made it molasses, I
Measured my sleep
My forward was shorter than yours
I could see
I had a nice dream
It was awkward for you
Even harder for me
Not to be
You swam out
The broccoli mountains had boiled now
I'd drown
I sat on the side and consoled myself
I let the light leave
I knew there were Labradors waiting for me
Where had I been?
I'm calling my head to come back to my feet
I'm calling my head to come back to my feet
I'm calling my head to come back to my feet
