and that table behind you,
I'm looking past the wall,
and this house,
and this town,
this state,
this continent,
the sky,
. . .and. .this thought. . .
dahhhhh-da-daaa-da-daaa-da-daaaaa
and its all to the whisper of my harmonic hum,
drift, drifting, drift....
hmmmm-uh-mmmm-uh-mm-uh-mmmmmmm. . . .
till I'm alone,
and I feel the brush of my soft long hair as it entangles my neck,
Dancing in the cool wind,
My feet begin to pivot, and my legs and my body are just trying to keep up,
Twirling, and Spinning everything's going so fast moving in cycles,
Except the wind that's battling against my cheek,
My body collapses to the cotton like ground from not being able to withstand the dizziness that overcomes me,
I'm laying in a snow angel like fashion,
My head flops to the right to look down my arm,
It's snowing and I'm in my old pink and orange snowsuit,
Just like when I was four,
Just like when I was four. . . .
. . . Just like when I was four. . . . . . . .
everything is beginning to dissipate,
to fade to grey,
to nothing-ness,
My eyes are just beginning to straighten out,
Until I realize thing's are changing,
My body lies still. . . . until. .
My body sits still and looks up to be greeted by your face,
Greeted by your eyes,
As mine gently roll to the side,
Awaiting another blissful dizzy snow-filled day. . .
Just like when I was four. . . .
. . .Just like I was four. . .
