Carried Away By A Train Of Thought You Said So
As you glisten to the calm blue see
Of tiers that never build up to a bridge,
What happens when nothing is everything?
What do you sea at the end of Yore Tunnel?
Everything is connected someway,
Nothing is connected to you.
Yet everything is connected to something,
Sew whom art ewe too bee two eye deal?
No one died and made you king,
You didn't ask for this.
You're right; you asked for more:
But this isn't the best I can't do.
Idiot Lord is to Lord of Idiots
As such rules all idiots, no?
It cannot be said that the Idiot Lord,
Who is not an idiot beside himself,
Can be more or less a great idiot.
Silver Chair is to Chair of Silvers
As such sits all silvers, no?
It cannot be said that the Silver Chair,
That is not a chair beside itself,
Can be more or less a great silver.
That's what I thought to myself won one-derful autumn day.
That life goes on.
Until forever and past that even.
Is forever an even or an odd?
Ask yourself at the end of your day,
If it's not fun why do it?
If you can come up with an answer
Then more power to you.
I never really liked endings, my dear Lord Idiot.
They can't be to happy or two sad
And they half to rap up the hole kabob.
So why end? Why not go on and on and so forever and never past odd?