Psychedelics_r_best
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 16, 2004
- Messages
- 2,049
Sitting on a cloud high up here in the stratosphere,
The table of time and space lying very near,
Trying to shed a tear so down below it may rain,
but high up here in the stratosphere there aint cause for any pain.
Wanting to explore all the lands that lay before my eyes,
That lay lit by the silver moon and crimson sunrise,
snaking rivers slither by, feeding gapping mountains,
sea foam rushes up, in gleaming sunlit fountains.
What drive, what urge, motivates me to feel and caress,
Every lay of dirt and lap of water the universe does posess,
Never knowing, never caring, always high and always glaring,
Should a fancy cloud meet mine Im always up for pairing.
But a momentary lapse in reason,
sends me down to face the season,
where the clouds are growing thin and far between,
the frogs are dying slowly, very rarely to be seen.
Where the grass is coveted in glaciers of concrete,
where no one dares to walk with bare and open feet,
where callouses are saved for mind,
protecting programmed people from the freedom steeple.
But the momentary lapse in reason is short and soon to pass,
and I can soon imagine walking over wetted green unending grass,
imagination can take you anywear when faced with unrelenting fear,
so Im watching the turning of the gears high up here,
In the stratosphere.
The table of time and space lying very near,
Trying to shed a tear so down below it may rain,
but high up here in the stratosphere there aint cause for any pain.
Wanting to explore all the lands that lay before my eyes,
That lay lit by the silver moon and crimson sunrise,
snaking rivers slither by, feeding gapping mountains,
sea foam rushes up, in gleaming sunlit fountains.
What drive, what urge, motivates me to feel and caress,
Every lay of dirt and lap of water the universe does posess,
Never knowing, never caring, always high and always glaring,
Should a fancy cloud meet mine Im always up for pairing.
But a momentary lapse in reason,
sends me down to face the season,
where the clouds are growing thin and far between,
the frogs are dying slowly, very rarely to be seen.
Where the grass is coveted in glaciers of concrete,
where no one dares to walk with bare and open feet,
where callouses are saved for mind,
protecting programmed people from the freedom steeple.
But the momentary lapse in reason is short and soon to pass,
and I can soon imagine walking over wetted green unending grass,
imagination can take you anywear when faced with unrelenting fear,
so Im watching the turning of the gears high up here,
In the stratosphere.
