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Radiating up and out
the call is block by cloud
upon cloud on cloud on cloud
"You've left me free as spider's string
floating gently in the breeze."
Rhythm fades and I'm dancing with my own strings now
a thirst not slaked by the blood of anything
drink and drink all you've got
and never tire of nodding off.
I'll have none of your mystic superstitions
just got jumped in the alley by bare-footed Christians
who's faces were blank and who's hearts had lost hold of the vision.
In a shelter of fire, dead-set on desire,
they're crushed by the force of the light they aspire to
fill up my cup till the brims buried under the water.
The second is not coming.
It's been here and already gone.
The second you gave away decision
was the second you crippled your own cause.
And this funny bird will have no roots,
save the joy of solitude,
save the joy of cutting loose.