slow spinning

the last few days

falling into place

falling into space

slowly tumblin' down but it ain't from grace

learning 'bout my existence at my own pace

every piece the picture with its own shape

 

perversions and conversions of the facts of my life

it isn't surrealistic but a bending with my eyes

my brain can comprehend when its snowing outside

but the love you fill me up with keeps me warm form deep inside

i could tell you everything that i have ever seen

but a stained glass portrait takes more than just a piece

 

fortunately this is just the beginning

you could sit under a tree and listen

you could sit here with me and with spitting tounges

fire rings and green eyes

we could be dragons

 

you could tell me that my thougths were unravelling

turning pictures into abstractions

confusing what is love and reality

but when my feet hit the ground and i fall out of place

when i come back from space

i'll show all along where i was

standing in those places right next to you