Album: The Late Great Whatever
I hear you making sense of what's nothing
Undirected, unthinking
I know, because I do it too
I guess it was just my own confusion derailing my calm
in some kind of careless way
It's interlocking and that makes it okay.
What did you say? I'll listen.
But could you give me a second?
One more second, I promise.
I know it's taxing to hear me.
Shiftless, swaying thoughts go unwanted, go stale
They're erratic, pointless, blind at best
It's so stupid, I know
I can't help it
How's it working for you?
Leaving space where there could be something clear and substantial?
A lucid way of remaining.
I can't speak in descriptive terms, only make an impression
any which way I find acceptable... but it hasn't worked yet.