Center line, my friends.
Walk yourself to the edge of time and feel tangible.
Look at me and don’t look at me.
Notice the fucked face begging to break the smitten boys.
I am here, feeling, and getting sore.
My lovely Kandi, I am not finding time to love my dog, or mom.
I am not giving anyone a second thought, I am saying the world is dying,
But you know, you have learned my name, and the meaning to moans.
You are creating these words, pumping my fingers, my callous mind.
So, there is no space, time, or tweed that will stop me.
The lines of two words, two states, are knotted to our tongues
And we will talk to the greatest.
Joey, Landon, Matthew, every line you place in my face is just too hard to bare.
You make me yearn, straining my eyes, causing dead beat hearts.
I am loving, and loving, falling in love. Kissing, and hugging, fucking, and fucking,
and fucking, and fucking.
I have created love.
Now, this is my simple harmonic pitch, falling slightly down to new keys.
My friends, center line.