Summertime, you know I'm on to you.

This is it, no epiphany.

Sea-monkeys, blue Mr.Freeze. A permanent stain on the carpet of my memory.

I can't stop this wagon we're on. This ride might be our last.

Well I ain't no dog, but I can bite.

Like the dog outside that says it owns the street.

It's one part Revelation, two part Psalms.

My skin gets thicker, covered in needles and spikes.

Had that dream again. Where we were Siamese twins, and I'd follow you everywhere.

What makes it float, also makes it sink.