Can you feel the rhythm rise,
without ever leaving the ground?
The bridges sway with every song that they play,
and I can barely wait for the sound.
A sonic exhilaration sails
across dreamstates of predecision.
While wily wizards harangue the warlocks,
the devil makes a quick incision.
In the hearts that are subdivided,
from dragons which seduce a sigh,
there’s an ache to leave in their blood–
there’s a dragon there stuck in the mud.
Some-
when they run, run far, far away,
while others are stuck on James Brown soul-
there’s an evil wind that’s suddenly pinned
your face to the totem pole.
Can you feel the rhythm rise,
without ever leaving the ground?
The bridges sway with every song that they play,
I can barely wait for the sound.
.
