Psychokinetic to the credit of the boundless, we are groundless motes of dust.
It’s not a question of if, it’s a question of must.
I cry in the night time without a lover to hold me, but I’m still standing boldly,
I’m breaking the walls of reality, by partaking in conformity,
So things will finally go bump in the night,
I will hold you tight and tell you I love you,
Screw the facts of fiction, I’m tasked with fruition.
Make me cry one more time, and you’re out on parole,
My toll for telling truths,
We are relieved, re-lived through our youth.
So I will hold my breath until the world ends, darling,
I am harking or hearkening to your sense of virtue,
When I search you for answers, please, please, gorgeous, don’t tell me it’s Cancer.
I have to live forever, and as such I can never say never.
But I just did.
So put a lid on it honey, I’m not made of money, here.
We’re so close and near to heaven, we can even touch it.
So left in the raptures of the mind, I’m begging you to be kind.
Please be gentle with me.
Close To Heaven. // Please Be Gentle With Me.
