Mother. Father. I apologize for this late intrusion But I have come to a startling conclusion There is a "vibe" in my room, a specific chill That gave me a feeling of being ill A specific atmospheric pressure that suggests The presence of Victorian ghostly guests And while I trust science and I trust the data I am not willing to risk it, gotta see you later. Also, my throat feels a little bit weird Not "sick" weird, but the kind I feared Just... dry weird. Like a desert bone. And I felt very scared to be alone. I started thinking about how long "forever" is Is it a straight line? Or a pop quiz? Does it loop back around like a circle of time? I need to discuss this in rhythm and rhyme. We don't want to disturb your marital rest We promise to be the very best But my bed feels like a raft on the sea Drifting away from security And yours feels like a continent, stable and wide I would like to emigrate to the inside! We represent the Council of Shadows! We’ve abandoned our pillows and meadows The Council has voted, the measure has passed The die has been cast! The vote was two-to-zero in favor of "Invading the Big Bed" and stealing the love Move over, Father, shift your hip Your legs are sinking my battleship! I have brought a blanket that smells like cheese I have brought a pillow to put between my knees I require a quadrant of the mattress, South-West To ensure that I get my optimal rest. And I need to touch your ear with my toe Just to make sure that you don't go I need to breathe directly into your face To maximize the usage of the space. "Father... what happens when the sun burns out?" WE’RE COMING IN! "I call the middle!"
