I’m listening to some jazzy smazzy whoop de dazzy music style of this and that for all of what? Seven seconds more than it used to be? It’s what I do but so are you, know what I mean??? Crack an egg and let’s make breakfast. It’s time to chill the so called flower of our youth, preserve it in the refrigerator with all the others, but no, let it grow. Find that field and plant it so young. Nothing is wrong. All of it’s gone. Why oh why? Because the sky so blue said so.
Hark, hear the bell? Let it ring and sing and keep out of the way as it travels on. Outward and upward, going nowhere but where it wants to. Feel the glass window break
bread with the song on my side of the mountain. I'd rather not. Fight fires with flowers when all the world's a pearl and I'm just an oyster ruminating in my cozy shell.
Clap top Lambchop, where'd your Shari go? This old man is going home. Left a word to the right that was down when we all up and went away. Bittersweet butterflies floating on a breeze carried one way, two way, three way, four score and seven years ago Mao took community to a whole 'nother level.
It's arbitrary evidence to suggest that evolution emigrated here from where it once sat in silence. Balloons can't escape this myriad monkey house of demolition.
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