savage

When the light is tenvous and the sun's eaten up
When the chasm of the night spurts from the sky
When lullabies dance and cradles swing by
When the bottles gush out and the moons do smile

I think of the futility of the arrangement of life
And the dogs do barks and the rains do flood
Only as a degression from the fact, I guess
I do it always, I ponder then I run
Till the light does strike and exploits like a pun.