Look left, look right
Lying on the edge between day and night
That small little space
It yawns and it stretches; interstate nexus
Conceives, construes
Winds around in a scribble by the time it gets through
Bathing in ink
Its nothing for sure but a Rorschach tour
I don't know what to call it
I'd better ask Jackson Pollock
I must be dumb
I don't understand where money comes from
And why its so hard
To spend it on lessons instead of transgressions
Instead, instill
A trust in tomorrow the Good Uncle's will
He's taking care
That if you need crutches they're handing out toothbrushes
And milk and cheese
Good energy food, the mutual keys
Stocks in soup cans
Connected by strings and six degree flings
And then at three
In alphabet town what comes after 'z'?
A brand new start
That's better than clever tornado weather
I don't know what I took
I'd better go back to Seabrook
Look left, look right
Lying on the edge between day and night
That small little space