The Wakeless Prudy
Pickelike I hover there
Trying to find you everywhere
From my ears floating down tears
Wearing rings in eyery car's gears
Crawling out thy month
Will get lost in the south
No thoughts - just a word
Never blowing up the world
Lights give no more light to the blinds
Just dive into pints
You'll look behind
You must not be a divine legend
Just try to find the heart of a sergant
But don't do it like a surgean