Before I go Surreal
Still there is this something;
Half a person left …
Can’t conceive my drifting
Out of the cleft.
I’ll hide my domencils in a rigorous true,
I’m not at all as pitiful as my one shoe,
Yet I’ll drown my tomorrows in an ocean that’s new
While hitting my head far out in the blue.
A vola sound makes my own tomorrow anew …
The smoke screen’s up where the chorus goes down.
The spectaacle is lying there underground,
While the minutes are pounding with a vigorous sound;
Kinda like the chains are unlocked and unbound;