on the afternoon sky's watercolor screen
hang the maluable white bodies of water machines
they protect from all infections like unseen spleens
wiping open the eyes, rubbing the rust clean
invest in love, walking through the ghetto
broken glass and tied up doves
there's enough turn around time for all of us
flicking off false alarms like burnt up kitchen gloves
on the afternoon sky's watercolor screen
hang the maluable white bodies of water machines
they protect from all infections like unseen spleens
wipe open your eye child, and leave the rest to Me
