F*cking bees fly around
Between olive walls
And one open window
They try to edge me out of my town
I don't have the balls
For sensitive subjects
This house is drowned in cold archeology
It would take a bull in heat to make it real for me
When it gets hard to know what to do
My bear's on the couch
My rat's in the kitchen
What looks to me like violet is blue
The glue in my mouth
Is paving a driveway
I walked into the yard of my neighbor
She said that she would move if I stayed there