The bag we call hope was fairly stuffed.
It got popped with the closing of the
peptalk shop.
Returning to the edge of a bleak
horizon.
In a ship made of glad panels.
Running on goodwill fuel.
Just let me get past the grey sunrise
with all of these little reasons...
To have the bag of hope fairly stuffed again.
I´ll land in the middle of city expectations
in the lack of imagination region...
I´ll drop napalm love on the
barren soil you all farm your ideas on.
Judge me if it pleases you.
For your indulgence has been fairly stuffed.
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