Sunday, August 22, 2010

moving fast

and my head is a beatbox
too irregular to be a tick tock clock

baby, this boat don't rock
if you want out I won't stop
you'll have to jump, belly flop
I've got no time to gather moss

or seaweed or anything
no time to walk around in your whisky dreams
no time to push you in your mind's tire swings
I, I, I, I'm leaving

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