Number Twelve Looks Like You Sleeping With The Fishes See
Take my picture I want to have proof of this history,
I want the lake in the back and all this beauty in my heart,
they like to hide in the marsh.
Like a child on a tire swing, they swoop in on an arch to brush the fish home.
Dinner is served to the younger, the late bloomers lay their eggs,
and they all sway to the music of the brushing weeds.
I want to conserve, I want to protect, I want to defend, we have to preserve.
How can I help before this will end?
The bees need to stay busy...
butterfly wings need to keep the flowers in motion...
the trail needs to stay warm... so you stay away from their home.
You and everyone like you are selfish destroyers,
and I'll be just as selfish when i don't give you back.
One drill through your heart, two chisels in your eyes, three nails to crucify you.
I will turn your project to news headlines
