The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway

Keep your fingers out of my eye.

While I write I like to glance at the butterflies in glass that are all around the walls. the people in memory are pinned to events I cant recall too well, but Im putting one down to watch him

K up, decompose and feed another sort of life. the one in question is all fully biodegradable material and categorised as rael. rael hates me, I like rael, - yes, even ostriches have feelings,

Our relationship is something both of us are learning to live with. rael likes a good time, I like a good rhyme, but you wont see me directly anymore - he hates my being around. so if his story

Nt stand, I might lend a hand, you understand? (ie. the rhyme is planned, dummies).