CT wrapper and a ripped pillow cloud
Some deer guts on the shoulder they're
All scooped out like a sand dunes fore
Sights like pregnant packets of seeds
In the locus of your childhood memories
In the smell of cedar
In the speckled shade
Tautness waning worn out clay in
Back of the kiln getting warped and stoved in
Brackish water Indian summer
Back of the class getting lost an getting by
Been about an hour since you stood at the base of it
Half an hour later and you'll know what it takes to be happy
What it takes to be happy
You gotta realign your focus to what's in your control
Maybe plant another crocus at the end of the row to be happy
That's what it takes to be happy
Though I know you I can't hold you
Back from the whim that calls you so
I owe no favor fit to save a
Place in your story morning glory