Ever get the feeling you missed something? Will this all make sense? Will we have regrets? Of course we will. Is a fire like a star on the ground? I promise I won't write about the weather or the stars unless they're lying on the ground.
Will not to choose, will not to make. This not like them, we'll make no excuse, no more like them, no more less release. When the words they find their weight again then they start falling then more down. We don't swim under boat, no not now and the fire's not a star on the ground and if the colors start to drown and brown it fills your island, we'll not swim under the boat.
I've done bad things, maybe worse than you. soon the sun it touch the skin. I mean the light it wrap the skin in light. Sun throwing light, light throwing old light then older light throws light. Round light waves throw light round glass. With the water when it falls through lihgt and drags down light, light it doesn't care, it just makes light.
The new glass scourge lend truth to the glass threat now new threat, no new glass scourge. Walk now sinner, walk now through the glass. Touch glass, now no fear glass. Fear glass now that refract light. Wrapped like skin of porceline she lay broken. If not for flood of unborn water light. Her hair upon the skin with fickle coiled intention. We look like never under water. Like no never swim under boat.
Can you grip your memory in your hand? Can you taste your future in your mouth? Can your mouth hold time and will it hurt? Of my life I've grown much fonder. Swallowed my future so's not to taste it. What else can I've done? Stick my tounge out for sun's light spoon?
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