Caught up on a gothic lamppost,
It was happy to oblige,
Fell with me in red brick road
And stopped the cars from floating by,

He knocked me off my rocking chair
Onto my hardwood pride,
Stares from the Athenians
Piercing my own wicker ways,

Painting tiny faces for the
Future we are living now,
Directing people to their shelving,
For the boy who thought through time,

Bleeding from a burning bush
That caught me on the corner,
Wonder what became of them,
Cherub babies they forced to grow up,

Days were lovely then
When I didn't know to see,
Then they found out I was blind
And took away my bliss for me.