Sometimes, the blank verses and unwritten proses Echo loudly, even shriek for I abandon them oft In the name of vagueness and solitary confinement. Comes the day when I talk of seasons and reasons, I braid them together and tie a band of taradiddle For it's the mojo of lies I pepper that smells heaven. Sometimes, the blank verses and unwritten proses Echo loudly, even shriek for I abandon them oft In the name of vagueness and solitary confinement.
