I knew in the beginning what the end would be, so I folded and cut it and it stood by itself. And all without thinking as if I didnt decide. On down false avenues, deep into the hive.
The further your story is from the truth, the more you need propaganda.
There was a rich man living in the age of steam. He had a prize bull loose in a field of dreams. They'd been drinking the snake oil out where the landfill burns. I close my eyes, imagine that you're there.
I paid the piper. I'll pay the fare. I'll have a long conversation with a honey bear.
What were we thinking? It s not even funny. Take us back! Take us to the honey!
He was sitting on the village green under clear blue skies. He could see forever to the end of his life. And all without thinking as if he couldn't decide. On down false avenues, buzzing all night.
What were we thinking? It s not even funny. Throw away your keys! Throw away your money! Take us back! Take us to the honey!
I had a good sheepdog but he swallowed poison. Sealed his fate and now his tails stopped wagging. Pale eyes brimming he tried to tell me something. Take three steps back and set off running.
I paid the piper. I'll pay the fare. I'll have a long conversation with a honey bear.