With continuous sea's.nmy words form leaves in distiguous treesnand they fall down in slow motionndown past old kent and the white chapelnall the way to park slings and fairs in mayni dare to say, some even nudge up against your nephews left shoeni watch him fetch tonit whispers and scetches of blue trees with green sheepnnow who beleive's dreams speaknwhat seems bleak becomes noticablenit gleems deep so we can cope with the dopenand these are my watchdog water dragons,nnand i guess,nnthat im just a jar, driften by the tidenand i hope a star will lift my to residenin the hands of a single soul that can relatento these crawling my fingers coldnstill can make by the forcenthe drives clog to my clock worknrelax my way through the fog and the hot dirtnin your youth your just blowing in the windnand ya, see the truth and they throw you in the spinnof vicous cycle that wont clean the stain and inthink its vital. i dont seem the same when inlook in the mirror see long hall downnwhen im stumbling, crumbling,nit all falls down like,ndo ya, feel the rhythum in lifenwill ya, still believe in the lie.nwill ya, kneel and listen to yourself the only person that can peel the prison walls awaynthey all fall to dust and ya'll saynwe can call it trustnbut if we call it trust then nall of us can get down together and live tall and justncause i never plucked an eyelace i only,nwish they goodbyeni said i never plucked an eyelace i only, wish this could flynintonbook, poems, stars bloom and movies.ntheme parks seen the cartoons and scoobynit sooths menits all the same dont confuse itnboards and video games create the musicnjust use itntrilgen.nthankyou very muchnand aware that your building a sanctuary of,n(whoa whoa)ncause reality creates the sadnessnwe reli on these things to escape the madnessnand my two windowsni can tell by yours starena calming ground ni said we're both awarenmy first tv murdernthe ninteen many poor andnopen to a closet ofnninteen eighty fournbut when i wrote something lovely with my inkni stopped being humpty dumpty on the brinknof loosing my balence i found nshit there was a point mannthe feeling i get when im alone but we join handsnntell it all but im bound by a necklaceni dunno but i get a little restlessnand if i dont make it the end of the roadni dont even know the weight that i will unloadnwish i could relapse another time nturn back the tap discoverd rhymesnback and forth and forth and backnyo pull me in but that cord went slacknnme in my room writing rhymes to listen when you barbeque outside ornindoors jam packed in the clubngoing 60 in your car, you can feel it in your blood!nnme in my room writing rhymes to listen when you barbeque outside ornindoors jam packed in the clubngoing 60 in your car, you can feel it in your blood!nnyou can feel it in your blood!nyou can feel it in your blood!nnlet's build a world of our own.nso start to gather rocks.nthe shire's known chatter boxnto build a home for unfathered kidsnand guide the populationnncross the harbour bridgenthe harvest is controllingnmy watchdog water dragonsnill never stop writingnthats just a great authors passionnto write a million booknand not look back at one of themnand to notice when the children looknthere's something that the buildings tooknfrom their natural purposenand in a state like thisni can never be nevousnthis is my house,nmy crib my kingdomnwhere the floorboards creek and the kids keep singingnwe live each season just to give beats reasonnstep into my house all kids leave dreamingnvanilla sky walking with a halo and some cannibusnmy t-shirt reads minority's a managmentnand yeh thats rightnill glide through this habitatenglide young poetnfly, bring the magic backncause nest is home, nhome is nestni wanna rest my gnome i wanna hold your breast.nand if the world would give me a chancenthen i could ride on by and fly this like a kite in the skynsee this matchstick, signifiies my lovenit wont burn out it'll only rise abovenwhat a view from herenwe survived the floodnto many blind and deaf to hear the cries of dovesnanymore. cause the patchmentncrushed by the buildingsnand the view has beennreplaced by a cielingnplus the carpark was a paradisenunderneath the ground wont be free to breathenso i ride on a dragon and my pouch is a tigernto stop the towns flooding and house is on firenbut no thats not truenrealities a bitchnstuck in thie catagory where the calery is shit soncapture my lovenwhenever you feel itnthey says thats just muck, he doesnt have feelingsnwell i do and its trueni cover the canvasnme in strawberry fields looking for answersnall i wanted was a mansionnfor my mothernfat houses all around the worldnfor my brothersnflowers in the pavementna world that singsnstudios in every basmentnand girls with wingsnnnme in my room writing rhymes to listen when you barbeque outside ornindoors jam packed in the clubngoing 60 in your car, you can feel it in your blood!nnme in my room writing rhymes to listen when you barbeque outside ornindoors jam packed in the clubngoing 60 in your car, you can feel it in your blood!nnme in my room writing rhymes to listen when you barbeque outside ornindoors jam packed in the clubngoing 60 in your car, you can feel it in your blood!nnme in my room writing rhymes to listen when you barbeque outside ornindoors jam packed in the clubngoing 60 in your car, you can feel it in your blood!