|I feel im living inside a bubble, afloat, adrift inside a puddle.
Beside a fountain full of struggle, beneath a mountain framed by trouble.
The sky is blue and opened wide, but I cant even seem to try,
to break the grip of this old habit, of floating oh so close to sadness...
At night the stream is close to blackness, except for eyes aglow with madness
owl's perch upon a branch, mosquitoes swam beside a lamp.
at night the loons they sing a song, then disappear before the dawn.
I wonder where they go at day. Oh, please, oh please, oh wont they stay?