I’m at this like atlas, while the world on my back backflips

I’m ecstatic, my second bar’s slap stick

An incredible Helen Parr… elastic

Girls not made of plastic

Number two pencils and some match sticks

To paint a perfect picture takes practice

Now I’m not rudimentary, I’m 16th century magic

Mentally a Shakespearian savage

Tragically in love with the tragic

Forging iron words from fire like a blacksmith

Choosing beauty over uzi’s and other semi-automatics

Using light fixtures and silhouettes to play tag with

A black and white Fantasia… fantastic

An imagery fanatic, displaying imaginary tactics

So I get back intact with the universe’s vastness

Until I fade away into the blackness