...in the Spirit

Me lack space in the spirit
The weekday is five stories high
And the deafening different distance
Between the brown bread breakdown

And you
Is a delicate delight
Crush cost
Just imagine your impossible impressions

Merchant mercy : message
From morning to night
Hey miss brown
Object to the oak

You ought to turn the page
Take a peculiar pen and write
Your own instant
If somebody talks to you

Apply for proofs
Now
Don't be satisfied with a lack
Everytime you say goodbye

You die a little
Don't take roots!
Don't retire!
Paint the painful page

Otherwise you only ought to track the outline review
Put on your socks
Before you put on your shoes

Watch out
Mad dog is running loose
You've got two cars
You've got ten fingers

But it's never you
It must be others
Sleeping tight
Thinking of the past

I wonder how long
Is this gonna last?