a gas filled balloon.

About now my suspicions are tied in a knot of doubt and realisation
In the creator of a volcanic mind driven to the absolute
It doesn't matter I know that you drive at a hundred years an hour
The gray cells playing against the devil standings engaged salute.
I tremble internally amongst the shadowed graves
Pickled cucumber mind striving silhouette succumbed in infuriated embers
This bastardised life this lighthouse of evil piano tapping against revolution
The presidential light elasticated against the form of a non elected family members.
Do I one day return to simple simplicity to count the ants in brain
The cells that are attempting to figure out the Treasure trove of insanity
A belly dancing all foil and sabre fencing caustic knight without a sunset
You'll either live or love or play with my strings to entice the satanic goodness in me.
It may be time to gamble on the shamble of a constable countryside hay way
It maybe time to reveal the inner truth of the inside
No point in a leaden pencil to eradicate the mausoleum of this life force
A billion inter planertry observation, no point to abide and hide.
I'll quit right here in the den if our babies complicated learning thought
Il quit while I'm ahead of the a head the head of dislocated process of intrepid internal exploration
Of insipid jazz painted blues of dark hues and purple intuition
The earths forming doom denied the formation
Of a simple gas filled ballon
A trick of the light that happened so soon
A dance on the lightening storm
A trip to the moon.