On blissful thoughts you float
into her bubble gum covered cavern
hoping against hope for hopeful things
Pretty balloons always deflate
strangely intoxicated by nothing at all
Swaying too and fro on peculiar saliva
in unpredictable places
Cotton candy is only good when it’s fresh
She swings a high wire rope
Tomorrow and tomorrow and lo
around your neck, comfy as pearl strings
living against life for lively things
curiously wondering what it takes to please her
with blood pumping through all the wrong veins
Ice cream stains are just like acid
Tomorrow and tomorrow and lo
You don’t know what’s happened yet
your heart beat’s moving so slowwwwwwwwwwww
this eccentric siren’s song heeded
The Grateful Dead is the only band
who has called themselves what you needed
Wickedly original is often a flake
Loving monsters is always a mistake