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Oneironaut
There is something left in all of us
That is never truly with us
Tucked into the spleen
But stripped by the sheen
Sprawling God
Moving over the face of the waters
In November
Coming in with mescaline
But no disheartened disrespect
I don't understand
How to write it down
So he'll swallow it back in
Esophagus fortunes
Why do they look so normal?
Tusken hipsters
On the dead weight
Hilltop
Hanging down low
Maybe I swallowed too much
Spit
Octane
Too dole
For ditzy
Ol' me
Flashbacks to holistic
Arbitrary endings of dissonance
Desperate
For another pill to be taken
Upon scaffolding
Elementally shaken
By concentrated
Vital
Soaking
Constants
Sought in the sky
But nowhere to be fraught or fracked upon
That is never truly with us
Tucked into the spleen
But stripped by the sheen
Sprawling God
Moving over the face of the waters
In November
Coming in with mescaline
But no disheartened disrespect
I don't understand
How to write it down
So he'll swallow it back in
Esophagus fortunes
Why do they look so normal?
Tusken hipsters
On the dead weight
Hilltop
Hanging down low
Maybe I swallowed too much
Spit
Octane
Too dole
For ditzy
Ol' me
Flashbacks to holistic
Arbitrary endings of dissonance
Desperate
For another pill to be taken
Upon scaffolding
Elementally shaken
By concentrated
Vital
Soaking
Constants
Sought in the sky
But nowhere to be fraught or fracked upon
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