The clouds, the sky, your little eye this world has got you down my words, your reply, the dying light does anyone not die alone? your stuttered words, my bitter verse, now is the time do we spend a lifetime in a trap, only to get out alive? we'll fall so deep, from heights so steep, and and dream so deep of summer with the ocean rain, the hanging frames, and the realisation that this is not forever. Am i repeating day by day, or are we creating something new? Are these the words of a jokerman, ones he'll one day rue? is night now day, and day not life, will it ever change again? Will i ever drift away from space, and find my way home? or will i journey to the end? Only you know this.