Blunt was this hard-core abandoned
spectacle, shiney was this toy, you
look up and see dark clouds crying,
and spitting their mothers prize.
Hung over was this confusion, screwed
up was this time. lost into a bit of laughter,
then broken down like a cheap toy..
And we crawl into this belly,
like a thunderous applause at night.
and we fumble in that belly, untill
we see the light.