| Whimsical, a pen in motion, thoughts roll in my mind
|
| Scamper by so quickly now an agile word would find
|
| Well I tried to grasp an angel, saw her wings, and watched her fly
|
| Reality for mingling dreams to scurry back and get in line
|
| We ordered out for mindless dribble
|
| Over used, half wit, ishkabibble
|
| Corner store junkies giving advice
|
| We ordered out for paradise
|
| A gallery, a pen in motion, a delightful line instead
|
| It’s chivalry outranks commotion on the roads most common tread
|
| And on those boots, the clicking heels, the dreams, the angel starts to fly
|
| To masquerade the world’s parade for only seconds at a time
|
| We ordered out for mindless dribble
|
| Over used, half wit, ishkabibble
|
| Corner store junkies giving advice
|
| We ordered out for paradise
|
| Apple butter toast is nice
|
| Envisioned on a third wind twice
|
| My fine breaded friend was denied by the vice
|
| And they missed the perfume
|
| In a native centered world, one picks the fruit right off the trees
|
| On a wild blue island in the deep blue seas
|
| Beyond a paleocentric world with all our people shaped in threes
|
| The only way I get around is some mild insanity
|
| We ordered out for mindless dribble
|
| Over used, half wit, ishkabibble
|
| Corner store junkies giving advice
|
| We ordered out for paradise
|
| Apple butter toast is nice
|
| Envisioned on a third wind twice
|
| My fine breaded friend was denied by the vice
|
| And they missed the perfume |