A rider for the wave of pisces,
Like a beggar man asking for money please,
As if he could be like a knighted man bowing down on his knees.
Mother Earth's own work from worker bees.
So every night I go to sleep,
Always seeing angry waters gushing through,
Blocked by man's building blocks, huh, who knew.
My rushed thoughts pushing me into endless day dreams,
My every day wish to disc jockey,
Forever now being scattered away it seems.
