Here we are. A final moment. Found inside a wood guitar. That splits the seams wide open but lo. 'cause i know who you are. You paint the doors and walls and listen for the bell-chime calls. And life is nothing more at all than tea-cup drips and bouncing balls. And oh it's real and never fading. I'll listen to the strings you strum and all the words you're saying now. Ooh sing a song. A song with feeling. That sounds best when you've hit the bong. And concludes deeper meaning but oh. 'cause i know sometimes. All the thoughts can sometimes hit. Confusion as the record skips. But who are these fools that think you're hip. When all the world is full of shit. And oh i hear the tunes you're playing. It splits inside the summer sky. It's softly cascading on