Ballad

these thoughts compound the brain those lost beginnings taunting from obscurity: wail wail of the cold blue note coating the rough-edge balance sun laughing on your face and the pidgeon who sits all day all day the pidgeon who sits all day going barefoot forward through manic eyes on the totem pole slicing images the hand and the feet that walk all day all day the feet that walk all day hungry head in a maze of light floating away from the hump relics beyond your reach now baby not as good as it used to be to be not good as it used to be not as good as it was here the scale complete counting don't work no more my love scale strong to the earth

these thoughts lose begin the brain reach inside above shatter sitting walk all day eat the magic light.