I'm asleep on a pile of tape IDs arrive, never meant so much they died in a cowboy building

Licking cuts and tent the ways I'm not quite living no bloom, no bust,

bold bars of love, not quite floating,

not quite sinking, get me the drink.

I'm a future king, I'm a future king future king

I'm a future king

by

on the peace

I exist somewhere

but you can't be seen.

These words meant nothing.

Hope is born of hopeless necks.

These thoughts won't change the drugs,

on the lights are like, not quite live. I'm going to An appalling teacher, teacher, lessons learned, lost in a deep abyss.

The voice gets weaker, a weaker still.

Are we really important for this?

I'm sort of feeling, a kind of maybe type of thing.

Please dismiss this public speaker,

the future king, the future king, the future king, through his knees.

It exists somewhere with God

see these words in my Can't be seized. He's words meant nothing.

Hope is born of homelessness.

...