At the risk of sounding trite I'm going to spell it out In words you can understand Always mind your own business Aim to stay away from fire That way you'll avoid scorch marks
Maybe then and only then Will you see it's miles better To set clocks to chime at dawn
So make the sign of the cross Father, Son, Holy Spirit All know the lie of the land
Only a single item appears on your bucket list An inky scrap of paper says 'Never capitulate; condemn, or be condemned to a life of abject ennui that continues without end' You want to smell fresh air, but you can't generate enough power to channel your thoughts or render them capable of processing common sense
We resolve, review, design, shine, sing songs from nine to five. A New Year... Resolution; revolution three six five. The Earth's turn, dedicated, dated year two oh one five. A Mayfly-brief win dealt; a form of shelter... Gimme five!
