It's time for a round

Some times I cry for the sane

The sane worth speaking of

Electric misery

Like lightning flashing about

In conversation

No need to call him out

Believe your intuition

How is it you want him to be

Vivid and psychic

Inventing new clichs

In you not happiness nor hope

These gifts do not matter now

The hurtful gifts we bring

Subject to prop and plan we have to nominate a signal we can understand

By now the naked entrants aren't who we need

Beneath the hollow tree in gratitude I'm waking up to cut my deal