20'16 With Breath bated I painfully waited For the dream to fade But its never abated Its hardly even slowed down Im at an impasse with myself Ive locked myself away 6 feet under the ground Now only through my words am i found I left as the wind died As the trees ceased to rustle As leaves fell hardly shied To admit this might be the final hustle My lyrics left imprinted In the fine printed Section of your fine fitted High knitted gown Huh Well heres to tomorrow Waking up suddenly Im free This crushing weight this sorrow Has been rendered ineffective Like a free elective Like the idea we'd all become one collective Forget it the idea They wrecked it In an attempt to perfect it They ended up negelcting it Selecting to relentlessly Search every land mass, every sea Untile they discovered the dwelling of the dream Now the downward sprial has begun