Trippin’ Crawlin’ Learning to Fly
Crawling out of his crooked shoe His mission is to fly He swallows one raindrop From storm cloud after storm cloud He shadows his face and hides. In his ears, the harmonious peasants sing of love He disappears, A fading tumble into seclusion Why does the wind play tricks on the brain? Acting as though the whispering is real. It is another game We laugh at the fool "Look at him stumbling out of his shoe" Trap him, corner him Into submission Bury his dreams in with the oblivious Pull apart the blue sky to devalue his freedom. "What is behind those blue curtains"? Just air, smoke, unbreathable distance? Whistling echoes from the well He has fallen into his long unwinding spell Now lord help me, all that is mighty! Give me a hand, let me stop the blind crawl I can't see or hear the visuals, the auditory bleeding missions. Searching for guidance The hand that cradles you into thought To no longer fear the frightening. We are not a puppet controlled by the flirtatious mind of mercy Flames become invisible If you want to fly, You must first run into walls. The skin, the heart must thicken when struck by the whip of evil. Time and time again.
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