Bruised

Passing through, a passer through Glimpse of the town under moon True it left a sense of overused youth. Stuck in a hamster ball, As wide as you're tall Keeping life alive is all Dinner in 30 spins, make the call. Clammy and cautious Like preserving in a bathtub with ice cubes God wasn't right, he was rude. Cursed to puff up statements That don't edify my placement Of keeping straight in it. Porous roofs let rainfall Your pourous personality keeps you on the wall Not spontaneous at all. This town looks red Frustrated and sky's come for the dead. Fog interacts in your head. Like you showered and left To a cold situation, Like the ski hills out west. Or just a steamy head And all the words you just read. This town has patterns That weave into lanterns Light so bright That beams into Saturn. Relaxed people do it better Grab your conscience and your sweater Put yourself together. I am one among, People strung For the same idea That made them sing.