I lose the words that should be expressed on saucers of joy,
And count the days until separation means necessities rule.
For a time you walked into the shade when light seemed opposable,
But toothaches create a certain wisdom in my solar plexus.
When returning to the ground I grant three wishes of my own,
Not forever, or temporarily used– time floats on dimension undisclosed.
The sound of elevators and railroads tuning Bernstein pitches.
Passion sweeps by me supersonic tone deaf wise.
Hands gesticulate, electric fighting martian man… surprise!
A ballad that I want to know that sweets my insides’ life:

There’s a riot for the changes in the tune that makes me.
Sometimes laughter breaks me out from the comma that should break me.

Its meaning condensed with a country twang and a riddle,
No one’s allowed inside the truth of that pancake batter!
I’ll speak a language that creates a recipe that’s bubbly,
But the cream of it all amounts to darker times.
Forget that I tried chasing it out,
No one knows about the burglary of these less than perfect rhymes.

If there were nothing left but what I should be given,
I’d write “Rosebud” on a paper fortune teller, and sing my lies.
The freedom and the smell of Elmer’s glue would wrap me up,
And spit me out a truth-teller and a Lego set.
That’s when I build and throw everything to imagination.
Laughter fills the walls of these illusions and wishes,
Music smells like Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Delight.
Maybe everything could turn back a little? Why not! Huh?
Then no one tries to stop this incandescent dream of mine.