Description:
Burn baby burn, take the trash to the living room, laugh at the sweetheart, you and your friend can kill it if television's aim is bad, break it, hard or die. Hard or die. It keeps going, you're having fun right? Break the rules rebel, break them hard, help yourself. Make yourself at home, turn on the video games, don't bother to contact, gorge yourself, it's all here for you, take your sweet time, if you're confronted by it, blow it off and get paid quick. This is what it's all about, and we're with you baby, take my bite as high support, take my argument as just something that's my problem, you don't need this, you need to please yourself. The dream is alive and well, and we don't want to wake up from it. Ethics, morals, spirits, breakfast cereals.

Honesty in bloom, heart on sleeve, life ever exposed and safe. Courtesy to them and all you know, cinnamon and cider mills past last night's drenched roof shingles, down and cotton covered breath, out in the open with nothing to hide, mention of soft paper and pine, soda powder and brown paper bags, angora and hound's tooth, youth and canvas, fresh colour, blind chance and forward stumble, scarlet mood, and white ivory shimmering laugh, safe in mind and comfort in home, absent of flies and anger, blankets of your own, peaches in cellar, subtle hair and skin, sand and leaf, felt napkin and clothing line, warm air from heating vent, snow on ground, reunions of sane unforced presence, motherly intervention held in suspense, enraptured holy sight, reception in halls, your Sunday go to metting, your helping hand, your summersault, your attic, your home and your preservation, so simple, yet have they known, and yet may they wonder, with words and thought and thorn, this spirit and persona under.