in the land i like sun shines down like a peach i love to think of fuzzy hairs of fire swaying so the shaman i saw yesterday told me simply go so i calmly left her teepee and went home without a noise the psychics minds are sewing but the gypsies hands stay still the worlds around them change and spin and rain soaks their clothing but one yells out whispering it s all clearer to me now he dances in it psychics sewing words he s yet to say the bricks are catty corner to the grease below them now and every time i look at them i wonder who laid them but they ve been here for ages weather s touched these natural tiles it s something i must leave behind and re visit when i die what i ve meant to say this time is bugs are coming now it s after dark they re closing in it was humid out today and one decides to try and make an entrance in my ear thinks my head is the bee hive and there the bounty will be found bugs behaving badly get em to the prison now i tell you yes it is their fault you should spit em from the sky but if you have too kind a heart to cause these things to die then move on with my admiration trailing from behind bugs follow on like constellations frozen in the sky