Figure eights upon a paper
tis such a a labor...

A burning sense
a little desire...

Summer stars screaming for an audience,
wanting to sing their song...

I went fishing one day
and i did see...

Time drips down the broken clock,
yes we're back to that, one more time...

There's this little fly,
and it keeps...

Fly away, my little sparrow,
I suppose you're truly free...

Fold my heart into your arms
never take it out...

You lay down your head
and i whisper sweet things...

I wish i could write these words
and make everything ok...

Runaway kitten
beautiful sunrise...

Is it true?
could this be real...