the real world is waiting
is waiting is the real world wants us to go to her
who am i to hide beneath the paper?
moon, dance for me, dance for us,
your words breathe to my analysis
mother, my soul calls for you.
the real world is waiting for my love is real.
and no leaves may turn over
but may turn to the sun
as pessimisticism is broken
the real world is the real love is the real treasure,
i wonʻt force you out anymore.
swim out from my heart
with your organic melodies
run away from her voice to my ears
youʻre a new function
beyond these snare drums
you are base,
backbone of this symphony
base drum,
go to her, i hear her calling.
the reals world is in my real hands is behind your real eyes
is pulsing from your real heart;
and the shockwaves are making my eyes roll to the back of my head
itʻs making me scream. but i donʻt even want to be found i want to tilt back my head and measure the sound
so breathe, breathe for me, nobody can stop it just a turn for the better,
go off but donʻt drop it
with purity on my pores like honey that rolls it flies through my mouth, healing the throat.
so the real world is the epiphany itʻs truly this: measure in the three words before a kiss.
