Everyone becomes a bit crazy
The morning I slept in cold shorts
I realized the outside has nothing to offer me
I would be facing more than just this day
And Steve's strings diagnosing dementia
Away from my pillow
Scary futures
Why is unconsciousness
Believable and enjoyable
When you have knowledge of tomorrow
And a 24 hour star
With a 24 hour clock
That ticks my head awake most nights
Am I the clock?
The 7 that my arm points to
Would be rainbow colored
If clocks knew about Milwaukee beer
Would they still count the afternoon?
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