Miss the Ground (1/2019)

I walked up high on a telephone line.
I tripped, didn’t fall, I was flying.
Man, I was a plane.
Little wire runway, never call my name.
Boy, I’ve gone insane.

Flutter outside to a tree.
Shudder at the thought of disappearing,
they’re always disappearing.

I dripped onto a small hole in the sky.
I sailed, didn’t sink, I was floating.
Man, I was a ship.
Little tiny blip, never read the script.
Boy, I’ve lost my shit.

Buzzing outside on my knees.
Shutters close, my thoughts start reappearing.
They’re always reappearing.

Bring it in, drown it out.
Let it spin, make it loud.
It all happens when we least expect it,
but I see it all the time.

With no parachute, without sound.
Fall so slowly, miss the ground.