we all gloom in and out of whispers on the wind.
and we take steps that get us places.
and i lay on a hard bed that steps me to wondermind.
in all the right places, and in the wrong its cramped up into style.
i’m on the map of surviving.
i slept still last night, after i moved out of my balled position,
don’t know why i made myself so small
but i found my space on the surface and spread out real sound
half way through the night.
and the mountains still stumble their static shapes
I’m so far out, I’m in.