. tight roping the stars .

. think i'd been tight roping the stars salvation a beautiful inbreath on the way back to the slippery known familiar home freedom's a wave where back on earth things looked rather heavy not exactly a grave i think i'd fix that; happily i throw it in now; rather than on my deathbed always thinking ahead how you gonna get ahead think i'd been tight roping the flux weightless you know quiet and you move by expanding oh i know "go blow" you be smokin' "mother joe" times a tick and space a tock and nothing rhymes with the sort of impossible attachment to well there's a certain freedom in dying before you die when its all so heavy and significant and eventually all of a sudden not. not so bad not so tight not so "smells like the halls and walls golden stars and bars..., love." [outro, leading] Love. Can I say that .. my overseers ? Can I? well.. Can I? [end][end]