Ive done myself an impossible crime,
Had to paint myself a hole,
And fall inside,
If its far enough in sight and rhyme,
I get to wear another dress,

And count in time,

Oh, wont you do me the favor, man,

Of a giving mind,

A polymorphing opinion here,

And your vague outline,

Ill find myself another burning gate,

A pretty face, a vague idea I cant relate,

And this is get what you get for pulling pins,

Out of the hole,

Inside the hole youre in,

Its like Im pushed on the handle bars,

Of a blind mans bike,

No straws to grab, just the rushing wind,

On the rolling mind,

They want you to decide,

Eventually, it happens,

Some gather on one side,

With all their pearly snapping,

They close the basement door,

It sets our teeth to chatter,

You never saw it before,

But now that hardly matters,

Youre old enough, boy,

Too many summers youve enjoyed,

So spin the wheel,

Well set you up with some odd convictions,

Because youre finally golden, boy
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