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a name on the door
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whole lotta other stuff Some days dreams are about peace but with deterrents singing
New York City, don't misunderstands me;
you depict the epitome of art deco
not unlike a cave painting
I discovered the fabric has a wrinkle
when a cosmic moment arrived
let's be clear for the sake of clarity
the choice poises and then poses
detached towards what is abandoned
how does she know so much?
speak in a language of the eyes showing
not unlike a pot boiling with steam rising
the meaning has the sound of the city sidewalks
anonymous tongues, scorched burning to be heard
go harbor every disaster, no one has a soul the color of alabaster
inversion of submission until we completely turn on histories revision
leap in correspondences try to prepare for what is in store
some things we long for the others we crave
finding its way here, the finale, it was cradle to grave
salvations not a city department with a name on the door
