An empty head without a screeching weasel.
When the sun and water fades away,
A world beneath the wings of comfort eagle.
Gazing at an early morning light!
I see a cloud of white organic dye,
The sky and light a candle shining bright,
Colours falling from the naked eye.
When I hear the sound of Mister mister!
And maybe you forget about the glitter,
And stay together like a cookie cutter,
Then write a song about a twisted sister.
To hear the sound of playing the bass guitar!
Sort of like an old electric car,
Lying on the early morning glitter,
Me a million dollar superstar.
Image from pixabay