Slow the Time
Time could be the wing
that breezelessly carries you
over this ridiculous scene,
the bric-a-brac: opulent,
chintzy, figurines
that make me crazy when they sing.
Of which I will be king!
And how bad would that be just to pour another drink?
It's just one thing to slow the time.
You give the notebook a squeeze, try to spill a little ink?
It's just one thing to slow the time.
I am the beast.
The beast I handle him
when starting up has to cease.
You blink. The moon's in the sky again.
Still no good reason to leave.
It's like you've stumbled on a sphinx
who's got no riddles to speak.
Except how bad would that be just to pour another drink?
It's just one thing to slow the time.
You give the notebook a squeeze, try to spill a little ink.
It's just one thing to slow the time?
It'd be a lie to give this bell an atavistic sound.
Between my roots and wheels I don't know which should hit the ground
But in either case I am unholy and I am bound
Why do I feel weightless? Tell me please why do I feel no weight?
Like only spider webs are tethering me to this place.
The answer is to ask a better question than "How bad would be the cage?"
Don't be scared of this scene; you might never find your home.
It's just one way to spend your life.
But tell the jackals to kindly leave and you can take of your own.
It's just one way to spend your life.
Time
It's just one way to spend your life.