Seeing stars won't make this ours won't heighten life, won't open eyes We have no need of either weed for what they give is relatively small, a little joy is all (but when compared to what fresh air can do, when the scenery is you, the effects that these can take on me are lost and blown away). Falling for an evil grin and falling out, and falling in and falling for the bouncy stride and falling for your wicked side, for the good you try to hide, the You that you've so long denied but proven, to your dismay in everything you do and say. A world exists inside your room of happiness, curtailed too soon, of all the best things I can be, of colour, light, and you & me. And I observe on my way home the world return to monochrome.
