Disconnect and let me drift,
until my upside down is right side in.
Society must let the artist go,
to wander off into the nebula.
Upon return, I conjure what was seen.
I let it pulse and boil within my limbs.
I lay my pencil to the porous page,
and let my lunatic indulge itself.
Wander off into your nebula, see your nectarine of
multiplicity cum like orgasmatron
on overdrive
Wander in off to your nebula, your tangerine of
electricity is ripe and on a vine, so pick your prize
Do you enjoy your sight inside?
In little, black book do I confiden the tin can phone.
We rendezvous at a quarter-two, and make sure were alone.
I may have found a way for you and I to finally fly free.
When we get there, were gonna go far away.
Making sure to laugh; while we experience anti-gravity.
For years, I kept to myself.
Now potentialities are bound, and sleeping under my shelf.
Simply choose your destination from the diamond canopy,
and well be there.
So I call you on the tin can phone.
We rendezvous at a quarter-two, and make sure were alone.
I may have found the way for you and I to finally be free