DESCRIPTION:
Took an old poem, made a song out of it. Space-Fi.

Time spent in my room
everything dissolving
where only precious space is concerned
until I turn around and notice it's collapsing
everything breaks and starts to spin in a thousand slightly paced pieces
the walls are gone now
how tall we've grown, so small
encased in the wood and granulated firmaments
a reaction to circumstance

our hands tell stories that our minds can't project
until the lights creep in exposing shadows
the carpet is an ocean engulfing my body
waves, undulating intoxication
wormholes sing from my flesh
the glue begins to thicken as the attitude is fresh
the lines start to waver
save the few I focus on next
while the paths are still sectioned and the fork feeds my head
as we are connecting we become disconnected
save for a few I focus on instead
remarkable extensions
"Message in a bottle" now "Message in a text"
save for a few I still focus on
save a few we still project
and wormholes sing from my flesh