Last few years you had been good for you.
Cocoon Boy forgive me, but what about insides out your open mouth?
Your scripted themes in sync with words distinct.
It's genetic mess. Makes sense, I guess.
Forgive me Cocoon Boy.
What about spilling insides out your open mouth?
Sing through awkward interludes.
Play a long and stupid tune.
Have your demons dance on cue.
Oh! Tired of it.
The last few years were good, mind you.
It hasn't changed a bit albeit lessons learned x2.
We sleep into the afternoons. Awake a shape we never knew.
Break the spell and kill the news.
Mothers teach, daughters renew.
Fathers speak and sons undo.