I can't stop thinking.
As my blinking...begin to failing. Breathings more than balance. Swaying along.  I notice, it's freaking me out.  Alway on me feet.
Which way do I stare. A bounce. Love, love, love, lova thirsty dreaming. My appetite...
hungry disappointed results. I had to choose me. Salty, result for one. We must choose successfully. I choose. I before E. Make senses in some circles. Mmmh. Often, wonder, is it fair,
To question,
Who we are.

Free Mr. Clark or lean on me,  
We're in a tough spot, for crying out loud,  The money train is coming, but can we be free?   The root of all obituary names written in erase able ink,  From the tree that she shook, and he swang from.  Down on 110th Street, a siren hum, as we march in line.   We're in the World Series, Yankees vs the Bums,  "There can only be one," the ultimate test,  Petrified hearts grow to topaz, tempered in strife.   Blood circulation slows, as we await our due,  Compensation for what's deserved, justice pursued,  The game is rigged, the Umpire wears glasses too.