I'm as weightless as a sacred
Misinterpreted text
Holding great ideas here tonight
Lay by the side of believers beds
I have my own reasons
I have not responded yet
When we're not in the same room
You're not you, you just a guess
I just want to be in a furnace
Without feeling the heat
Fake an anxious episode
At the local, but be discrete
I'm own idea
Of how to dance all ideas free
Shaking out all these dead wet branches
Just to fall into the sea
He met Stella on Thursday morning
And saw that book in her bag
She said it goes straight to the bedside
Without ever being cracked
We all have our reasons
To invent the life we have
Keep that light in you line of credit
Until the banks collapse