Twenty eight seven twenty twenty

Twenty eight seven twenty twenty

Twenty eight seven twenty twenty

the longer we wait,

the longer the plenty.

 

When they step,

very slow.

You may think,

they’ve nowhere to go.

 

But what they seek,

is going on within,

Their holding on to,

their childish grin.

 

The best layed plans,

are taken slow,

So when they layer,

they’re as thick as snow.

 

They change to ice,

and harden up,

solidify,

till the golden cup.

 

Then they age,

and crack right up.

supporting the egos,

of that elitist generation gap.

 

You dictate to me,

from right and left.

Telling me,

that we’ve mucked and messed.

 

But where the plan?

No referenced ploy?

Are you running as patsy,

or starting cult joy?

 

 

renounce reject retire rejoice,

resign refute reduce real-nice.