Walking bubble sole, swing step bliss joyousness, on the cobble stone,
Side of the road with the river, its tumbling by.
Tumble water weed, rustling a constant sound like ocean wave,
Colors gaze, pastels ablaze, pastels ablaze.
Look to the empty room with the empty walls, pastels ablaze,
Minds of dance, bodies of inscription, clouds of exuberance,
Fusions alchemic in the weave of dust from spiraling gemstone.
You as joyous as I, peasants some may say,
Though we're fit for our dreams, to some unseen, the gold in our eyes.
Heart that is spirit, how ours graciously twirl, transfixed in a swirl,
With the moon and the world, its tugging and seeking, my hand is reaching into the doorway of your heart to bring about flowers and birds with stars intertwined, in feathers and pedals, nettles riddles and rhymes,
Hidden in the middle, within.
You as joyous as I, peasants some may say,
Though we're fit for our dreams, to some unseen,
Yeah we're fit for our dreams, year we're fit for our dreams,
To some unseen, the gold in our eyes.
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