I have to prepare your bed
for your late arrival
in a thousand years I will feel your light
will let it pass my way
not stopping to chat
just walking away
towards the sun to say goodbye
and the air inside is chilly
so clap your hands silly till they fall off
like ships off cliffs and and noisy crick-ets with paper rimmed glasses
and ants crawl on molasses
safely tickle my back and you can't take it back
an apology makes no thing right
justify your fears in the face of my almighty being
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