Dali,Bob and Me

How does it feel,to be in a crowd that's so grey? Know one to understand ,like cows grazing in a field of baby blue grass. know one having one single answer that will make hope last. Until the next time we wine in need of milk. Like rolling stones going down a hill made of silk. Beautiful colours every where ,but beening mean we hope it rips. Black and blue cowboys with guns on hips. Though the false love that I have and the real desire from not having put in red. How does it feel to not know anything any more? Soul is at the core. Opening vault, signs of the times, hidden in Purple skies, why? can i dream of a Bull killing the Matador? I rather love,who wants me to kill what for? I quit! Let me think,while the Sun starts to sink in pink. Bob asked" How does it feel to be like a rolling stone? I only keep moving, because I want life to leave me alone.