Bagheera Idle
We were headed south on 29
the clock spoke of the lapse
from a severed nerve in the back of time
the bridge was out we jumped the synapse
and we're off the road and off the clock
and though the hedges that we're betting
will slow us down and absorb
all the details that you're sweating
and we won't know until we get there
if sense of timing has been impaired
hands are broken digits despair
pressing forward until we get there
hurry up before the sun burns out
