birmoda

In my head, there's constant noise to much clamor to hear my voice Sounds of rapid rumbling chatter makes me lose my mind and matter In my head, there's lots of clatter daydreams break, submit and scatter But when they do, I always try to call them back before they die In my head, the senses sigh, neurons sulk as thoughts fly by Words dont fit in any phrase Everything is out of place In my head, the reverie haze leaves every impulse in a daze Roads too rough and hills too steep Circuts crackle, then they weep In my head, the doubts run deep Nothing's ever sound asleep Speculations formed by fear shapes desires weak and sheer In my he

While all the population of our expanding nation Gathers in formation at the jollyest location To uphold the fixation of a strangers admiration By an annually planned out plunder Without a blunder, quick like thunder They need decor to not go under I sit back and wonder Though I know that 'tis the season Is there ever a good reason For this strive towards repletion When the prize is obsoletion Of cohesion So in health and in sickness And with blessings from Narcissus Albeit quite fictitious Have very merry Christmas