living by the slow baptist rule
I'm a dreamer sleeping at the bottom of your pool
livestock vision wasted on laid sod
I graze on what's given, not what's promised
who's humble enough to not know
what giant can peer through concrete graves
I hear the truth, I hear the wind whistle
I see what my mind believes
fear move me to a safe place
a place I can smile alone
A gentle room padded with innocence
not these open bare fields
a seizure to some, grace for you
I'm convulsing in the floor to impress, to move
searching quietly with my nose in the corner
I regret whatever can keep me gold
who's humble enough to not know
what giant can peer through concrete graves
I hear the truth, I hear the wind whistle
I see what my mind believes
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