That letter she wrote.

Just because the ex lover of a last time
Still plagues the darkness of your dreams and mind
It matters not as the way she moves is a distraction
A kindness force that allows the missile of your heart to find.
They'll acknowledge the tin drum inside of your head
To consciously cymbal the vestibule of the never land
And into a narnian wardrobe winter world , the poorest mouth is fed.
The saxophone playing amongst robbers and gangsters
A brass confusion of intrepid explorers
Reaped rewards of the letter she wrote
The dalliance of dreamers the folk of folkloreres
A tale to tell a new ambition to reveal
A foundation of concealing intrusion in your colours obscure
A billion stars that ratify your looks
That are like the bait on the hook to draw in and to lure.
Did you want me in the first place
Were your fluttering, butterfly, eye lids even real
The wings said so much yes, but I question the face
I'm in quandary the truth the race
Do not make this a disgrace
Let's have peace
Let's have face. Let's have a word into space.