Grey showers and dark, green mud.
Cool winds and my soul sweeps meadows.
I can, without Testament, break clean
and await, in the sunlight, second class love.

Nonsense I say, not to shroud meaning
but to fill the void in my mind,
with sweet concrete and jello riders
fourteen elephants gone below.

I can hear the giant climbing down
a tree that rises to kiss the sky.
Get the axe! and the sun burns pink
as I, Mystery, go underground within.

<!&|>