I find it hard to understand, why the people left the sand is it weird, is it strange, that the sky fell far from blue and I know it all sounds crazy but it’s all I have to say.
I know the stars are sharp and wicked, watching sea boats sail on waves, waves of granite gray and black, tipped by the foamy breath of those deep down beneath, and the ice planes cold and frigid hold a lesson close to mind, find the right words to put it all together a second time.
I know the ground is good for falling, and the sky is good for watching while the seas are good for cooking, though the people are best for drawing. It’s not too great it’s not too grand, but it’s worth a few more dimes to sit and watch the end of time.
I find it hard to understand, why the people miss the sand, is it weird, is it strange that the days came down in flames, and I know it all sounds crazy but it’s all I have to say.