We're all a little in love,
And a little broke,
A little of poetry,
And a little of the strokes.

Beautiful in the most undeniable ways,
With some ugly dark sides,
Nomads at heart
But in houses we reside.

All with legs to walk,
But with our heads on wheels,
Looking like open books,
Having deep secrets sealed.

And they say that the space is a mystery,
They didn't look at you or me,
It's a world of forgery with a tiny shallop,
Sailing in the wicked sea.

~*~