Belief wears a coat of punches in the morning
Beginning the day with unconscious revery
Or it's conscious, it's conscious, it's conscious
Notice if this is a gift or just a number for collection
Rheumatic boulder could your sheets still roll?
It went to a reunion
With its pillows brought from home
The bombardment of games is
Making us simper
The ingredients of castles a
Runaway mother
Come on memory! Your span
Holds movies, like novels
Like paintings, where did you go? Salvo of pleasure is
Languor in my fists, on my throne
The quiet of free and yet antithesizing
Plural guitars of war that we don't know
It's the loudness, the loudness, the loudness
Sufferer's breast and the dryness of climactic milk
Rheumatic boulder could your sheets still roll?
It went to a reunion
With its pillows brought from home
The bombardment of games is making us simper
The ingredients of castles a runaway mother
