I do my best to sleep the caterwaul The classicists, the posturing I bought a macaw, named him Jules Verne He'll probably me, he's a bright bird Keeps me company, I teach him new
I saw a hologram at the park She looked as real as me the white fog Then she melted down to her Turned a million watt candle If I knew she went, I would follow
through the land of tomorrow Martian trinkets, Apollos In the sunshine, try to act My veins are full of Cherry-Cola Slept on the bench, by the roller
Dreamt I was on a motorbike Lion of Judah on the side
I'm doing fine, I'm in the palisades Life's a wash, a pastoral play shops and cold ivory towers I and I make toast to the Forcing down the of Decembers
Madeline, she spins in a slow All through the house, the strong smell of sage make it clean and run out the spirits I a diving bell when I hear it We're down, now, under the surface
Light to dark, can in an instant close but keeping my distance On all fours, she's so insistent Fills my with jump ropes and slit wrists Bust through the into heaven
And then I'm standing in that light Crooked falling from the sky
Seen, yeah, by, I and I Seen, yeah, by, I and I Seen, yeah, by, I and I Seen, yeah, by, I and I
Seen, yeah, by, I and I Seen, yeah, by, I and I Seen, yeah, seen, Seen, yeah, seen, Seen, yeah, by, I, I