Little boxes, little boxes.
Daniel Powter shames me into goosebumps
The tree struck lightning should be a lightning struck tree
I want a drum I could beat into flight
Mr Royal Highness' ear has been poisoned
Royalty is my wrong allusion
Ten and counting years since
The hunters brought the heart
My yellowed memory
Their yellowed memories
Pockets of mointeres unchanging
Work grumpy, work sleepy,
Work dopey.
1 comment:
Daniel Powter wiould do that to anyone! ;)
nice.. i like it for how much sense it makes without making sense, you know?
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