Untitled II

To the moon we go...
          wait, that's the end
          sunrise and golden fries
          laying out the land
          my hand,
          and yours...
Fruit loops we ride
          beneath the sky,
          tail to tail,
                   bobsleds in the fall
          Paris by day,
          Venus by night...
To the moon we go...
          but that's the end
          the onset of REM
                   and I HATE sleep
         So I eat...
          and think of slime, pie...
                       and the line ride
What do you think?
             Backwards?
          Or forwards?
       to not see things coming...
       to reflect upon things gone by...
          the silent treatment
          --for cutting in line
          Staring into blackness
          --lit by bright purple signs
To the moon we go...
To the moon we go...
          yeah yeah...
                   yeah yeah...