I deal with the vivid now, not the monotone
I’ve long since left the days of the over rated.
No pattern. No shape. Though drowned feelings are shown
In one smoke ring two mouths created.

Escaped from within, myself without the fiend.
In November, orange embers dance and dimly shine.
No recognition. Similarity; must still be lean.
An unknown, I’m lost and at home at the same time

This is craziness. Who knows where I’m going?
I’ve never been down this road before.
I’ve been locked up in doors so long without knowing.
Now zeal from the background comes to the fore.

Smoke-filled thoughts; Daddy’s home-grown naturally
I’m under the influence of something strong.
Light-headed it dawns; this is a catch, a match for me.
The reason I listen to that lot from Sheffield’s song.

The 505. The one on one. I’m addicted.
Wanting to fly high on the thought that shows me
A fact that I could never have before predicted.
I’m hooked on the outrageous, the ravishing, the Rosie.




magicka-studio.com