Stop... Do you think I care
You can take a ride on the drop
But you've got to get off somewhere.
And I know you love the taste
Of my summer fall from grace.
Fall from grace but not from greater eyes.
You blew a bubble and it drifted from your scope,
And I mistook it for a crystal ball.
I tried to conjure it but all I got was soap
And the vapor in your breath that formed a formless waterfall
We are the mice of both extremes
Sifting for gold in the neon sand
I'm a bit old for these hollow dreams
And he seems kind of tall for a wooden man.
What do you want to do
Time is up or have you forgot
There's no one left but you,
And I feel you in my brain
Trying to open up the drain,
Drain you out but not from greater eyes.
Peripherally I saw me spiralling in space,
Surrounded by stuffed animals and dolls
And you were waving all these flashcards in my face
Saying memorize these emotions
And the formless waterfall took over
So... what's your attack
Our armistice is over,
It ain't coming back.
And I know this all began
Because I killed the wooden man
And sent him far away from greater eyes.
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Copyright 1993 Zach London