ooh each of these old light leaves is dirt barely held together by tiny bone hands that used to be alive holding hands loose gripped at the dj vu dream scene end of a life long relationship these light leaves is my hair on the bathroom floor my smaller selves down the sewer somewhere under berkeley cincinnati or on tour airplane rear and hotel lobby ladies rooms beware is these light leaves bagged up in plastic never to decompose or fertilize when my balls are finally big enough to do it i don t want no casket no saddle no see through plastic mask no casket no saddle no see through plastic mask and when i finally do it i wanna do the dirt like the dead leaves do and if you do leave the earth when the earth leaves you cold and hard as a marble table top with nothing on top there s no hip hip hop hooray heaping heaven golden boned gateway no bright confetti hard step march ticker tape parade there s no mound of clouds to lounge on no mound of clouds to lounge on4