she wanted to be a weaver she woke up there is a big eyed woman staring at me her lips are on the flag applying pressure a new age cult leader one true lemming commingle a toe hold blue barrels in the sun shine mean old man things falling down dancing around a cactus wild flowers snake charmer how long will it last the wind is picking up corn tassels on the end of my sword I think it might be a true northeastern a new element damn your low flying clouds