45*21

little wranglers behind eyes that don't see
into a future that isn't always there
like in clouds, I see your head say "give me money"
a thousand times over
she breathes deep and I think of the ocean
funny how we are cleansed by thought
clenched between ideas and the knot
of some great undoing
the undertaker has a long frock
ye old trip to Jerusalem
where all the bikers shine a light
on castle keep
I say ally-oop and a wat we go
on narrow boat and shoe string knot
how far out in the ocean can you expect to go
never see another person
well the homeless life is this
put out to sea
and when you know sight and sound
comes natural to judge
less you be judged