danced in electricity outside a brick paradise
and blue light flashed in the orgasmic sky
while my eyes copied
there i bent over to vomit my soul
in response and respect
that was when i saw scribbled on the ground
a fresh little cliche
to take with me from omaha
and it went like this:
'your eyes they're like fireflies
bleeding green into the air
lift and color, pomp and flair
i saw you then in a new disguise
the midwest could never hold your hair
it screamed of innocense and dispair
and i loved you'
