SUMMER SWAY PARADE FUNK
Orange is no lemon or lime to me.
The sky is ours for the plucking.
I left the curious cats near our tree.
Someone shoveled sand into the sea.
An archetype blocked out my sleep.
Orange is no lemon or lime to me.
Apples figs apricots are served with tea.
I stumble out of focus filling bags.
The cats form a circle around our tree.
My pale riddles bounce off a knee.
A fool swims out beyond the light.
Orange is no lemon or lime to me.
The lazy moon tumbles into fantasy.
Stars are given edgy names.
The cats curl up under our tree.
The summer sways toward destiny.
Crows talk among themselves.
Orange is no lemon or lime to me.
I left the curious cats near our tree.
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