yellow is the eye of the cat that lays
but for you the lights dance
I’m leaving today
fill all of the wooden trunk
whilst dancing to mozart
expressing a scene thats not meant to be
silly with a mask

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live press on oil shine
it’s wet
you’re underneath the carpet
it floats and it changes the eye
sitting here still thinking of
I heard
you heard
the seabed now
but what else can I do
this is when the waves still turn
it was you I think I ask now
what else burns
a stream flow with trickled energy it is
but I’m not sure if the blokes are broke