Time Will Begin When it is the Future Present itself As it is Now Mark up the date, its suddenly late You're in a new timezone Unless in the event that you are operating a motorized vehicle, you should probably close your eyes Somehow we may count our days forever And ever and ever and ever and ever and Every moment is sneaking up on the next one

Look Under the Love Seat And Within a Clock What's gone are the hours That are only Lost in Thought The future has past away By never not being at all Ticking off their faces And melting down the wall The timing is often perfect Without it, you'd count it away Jester to audience A king's dance to its muse "He's got a funny hat, And he's wearing pointy shoes" Jokers with their decks dance In spades of queens in twos Counting cards a lifetime The king is not amused "AAAHHHHHH OOOOO You like that? OOOOHHHHH YEESSSSS I LOOOOVVVVVEEEE ITTTTT YOU LIKE GETTING NAILED BY THE KING????? FUCK ME YOUR MAJESTY!!!!! WHO'S THE KING? YOU ARE!!!" (excerpt from American Beauty, 1999)

Only ice inside of its chest 'Cause hearts taste better warm Never freezing, for its breath Well, its melted ice before Trek along living shadow agora Usually cast by aurora Carried by canines that phase through the pines Trek along, trek along, trek along, trek along, trek along, trek along, trek along, trek along, trek along The winds will not sing, But they'll whistle and howl (awwhoooo) While spirits make faces in icicles Funny ones In hopes that you'll smile back But don't stick out your tongue It may slip and get stuck

Yellow light is the fastest to see But its used to slow down Lovely mustard, not a sunflower For Vincent's not around Wet floor signs and traffic lights And probably some sounds Oranges, when they're ripe But there's only yellow in spite of the black that's only there to make you see yellow lines There aren't many colors Where there's no light Let there be light Photosynthesis, we have the technology, (indiscernible mumbling) When undermining, look up and down Rocks can be hazardous Surrounded by earth you become its core Womb of sunlight Lines aren't yours, lines aren't yours What does that even mean?

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"There was a time where the sea gave way to the sky, and the sky to the sea. Raising an amazing city into a destination like no other. Atlantis...Where legends are made and memories are guaranteed to live forever" (Atlantis Resorts Commercial) "He's riding 7 red, let's see how lucky he gets" "Oh Hell a seven red, we have a winner" "And the luckiest man in Las Vegas puts it all on seven black" (The Leprechaun 3, 1995) "I was in the middle of a fucking reptile zoo, and somebody was giving booze to these goddamn things, it won't be long before they tear us to shreds" (Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, 1998) "I wish I was back at the casino on a winning streak" "Lovely golden Palaces completely full of riches, I'll rip 'em off and rob 'em blind those dirty sons of bitches" (The Leprechaun 3, 1995)

The notebook spirals out Allowing for historical jigsaw The bureaucrat can become a kid again But he knows to keep his entries in order To some they claim that now is here forever ago Its shadows state that form will warp wherever it goes Its obvious the pavement won't stop stepping on their shoes The dirt path is carved by a gale storm, maelstrom Forces magnetize and will swirilelelel ohhhhhh WOOOOOOOOOOOOeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrwooooooooo

There are many places where the hearses never go But they'll dance around the graveyard Rattling their bones Many dance the break a leg without embracing others Gravity can substitute a lover Could use a couple stops along the valley street uncertainty Cacti, vultures, people, dreams all could use a lift to the Flatland once known for Chemically bonding to textures that make up our sounds Somehow Its soil that floats in the sky is the edge of the grid Lit, Lates, Words Home is where the car is parked 'Cept when the light is red Slam the breaks whatever time To go there in your mind Psychic allignment will grant you a layer of camouflage eyelids that make you feel there when you roll...your eyes Your mouth can talk for you But what does your body do? When you lie? Make small talk? Or sing pretty songs for the people who like peaceful music? Words sure sting Our lies are a portal to A carnival ride or a zoo, where the keeper is you Well it goes down Well try Flibber Flabber, Psychegrabber, Snapperfish Our words are but math when you treat them like tools, But words from the gut never follows no rules Would be (Moaning)

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Wet nectar from which Venus sleeps, She pours her head from a glass How Crass Such a shame that a fine lady such as herself would find herself into needing the power of fixation to pull her from her situation, Bring me nectar, he said...Pussy Nectar... That which is oh so defined and overflowing with life, the succulent life of the fountains of femininity, the perfect form from which her bliss arose like lust pouring from a tin sheet Aroma of tin Powerful trace of white and indefinite divinity, I just hope that somewhere within the whole pit of herself she discovers that she is falling deeper into a sleep Sleep will bring you peace for every day is born again into a new How long must you sleep to be reborn again Do not be distracted for thoughts will write themselves You don't have to deny the fact that they pour from their own virtue Don't fight ideas they do as they please For you've been programmed Don't let the world push you around The Butterfly Paradox, a hole so inescapable that it can't be described From trinkets and slime to bosom divine Color and Tack yourself Such indescribable feeling of escape Of intersection and disaster The feeling of white has engulfed, for I'm about to take a walk down the harley street starstudded of follywood It pushes itself against the tide but the tides must resolve themselves one way or another So I'll go for a ride with the butterfly woman who decided to step outside for just a second Love or so I thought or might have been suggested, but love nonetheless The flutter of glorious hairweb description She went for a drive, a drive straight to the end For once you reach the end do you just call triple a? No the butterfly woman double negative in her love takes a dive straight into the need to justify She will perch, her bosom unfold and within the cave which all men dare do go, lay the eggs that she cradles This creates a conflict, the dagger of man He knows not what he is confronted with, but it might as well be the gates of sunder Let him do as he pleases, but the butterfly will die to continue the cycle This cycle of hammers bashing and dimming the light Knives from which man dags into the spitting indescription Just get to the point He is being painted with illustrious imagery of butterfly But now engulf will come when it feels necessary Butterfly to cocoon and back too soon Color to room where the dancing sounds break the focus of butterflies flapping their desire The butterflies will encompass and fill where no man dares do go His soul, define this as such The butterfly has gripped him of form and with her glossy armaments has absorbed him to her Who could blame him, he's emcompassed He never had a voice to begin with The butterfly was always there looming, waiting for embrace But when it came who was anyone to blame but the misstepping of man The folly of the hole, the butterfly paradox It was always there dragging him along and he definitely wanted it But it just decided to graze over Waiting he did until his soul could at least rest He trembled over himself for only butterflies fly in their nesting desire There was no point in which this was to end A back and forth motion The tug until understanding It's all glue Once the bosom is burst she may only then be so defined For once the daggers lay their tug onto the embrace of the strange they can not then be given solace A hole so unwinding that it can't be reached at the beginning What kind of understanding comes from unraveling? The idea that it all was as it is It is as it states a story so inconclusive that it can't be defined with a happy ending It goes back and forth unending

A hypothetical pirate stumbles onto his helm One peg-leg after the other plugs the holes in the deck Hooking the looking glass and an upside down map Planning a course that is full to slow his scurvy And he's hungry too Between a bountiful meal And islands of treasure The former though fulfilling later leaves you hungry again The latter is hullfilling, but man don't live on gold alone Without filling your stomach You'll never make it home A captain leaves his loves his jewelry, their smoking hearts become led Without his honed seafaring sense of smell They probably wouldn't have met How does one enjoy the sunrise without their coffee or tea Thankfully for every stomach, There are more fish in the sea Unnamed scraggler, fish out of water Cares far little for food Without the water there wouldn't be fish and he wouldn't have became fish food If the sea offered water filtered for drinking, he wouldn't be parched or tuna'd And could have sailed home Or maybe he made it there sooner than expected The thirsty hunger more for water than food but not more than breathing But without your freedom can you really ever breathe Without your water, food, freedom, or breathing The last thing you need is your sleeping Sleeping is best when you've used all the rest and good food will be there when you wake Why go to sleep with no dreams And not use your freedom to breathe

They've taken the emeralds They've remodeled the hall Where once sat a throne Lives legends Long before discovering rhymes Poetry lived in motion Things without names could Speak for themselves Rocks in lue of magic potions Reasons melded with belief Things like courage guided comets Forgotten good judgement Hearing or seeing requires little action And bearing witness is truth Just bear witness to Apollo And his lyre that speaks only truths, his arrows never miss Sun and such and cosmic rain, the tide is coming in again Though the moons not run its course, the light remains eternal force Seeping through these colors thrive, not distorted by the night How'ed it get here? Could it ever really end? Somethings have form without any shape and others exist in denial The ones with good vision are harder to hear than the movements inside of... That... Sun and such and cosmic rain the tide is coming in again Though the moons not run its course the light remains eternal force Seeping through the colors thrive, for how could the be there without light

There's only one place to be Its the one that you can't see And its in the part of where all words mean...nothing... When compared to what could be "Oh this is the part where I'm supposed to keep singing, but I wouldn't want to do what I'm told ever it if was from me that told me to do the things that I wanted to be doing was me that told me to do those things...Right?" The mobile love, he takes his gun...He holds his gun...And he sakes it all. He holds it all. There are only so many words that one could say If he wanted to be saved But the only one that really means anything Is the one That you call The son

The sleepy sounds of traffic Are drowned out by the rain, pittle Streetlights are angels in fog Cars roll on to the cafe Red and gold fish races upstream through their black river Luminescence guided by bright great fruits that dangle from sturdy trees by energetic vines While the great metal birds just see them as ants Honey will await inside the hive Repeating a cycle within your mind that some call life Within a soul all things are made From some come beauty while others are brave Scurry forth brave, brave beaver and build with light of course And now a silicon concerto

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