Surreal Song

The southern brass band played some songs on the hill
And the valley was filled with dancing goblins
So we looked to the heavens for some hope
But all we encountered was a parakeet pope

Well all he wanted was a cracker
All we had was communion bread
And all we wanted was a picture
But we left with the thoughts in our heads

A pair of lightning strikes in and out of sync
Proves something and nothing are closer than we think

With your rose colored glasses
And third eye view of another plane
Left you conjugating Spanish
With past, future, and present all the same

Admire the vandalism on the walls of your brain
A mathematician's chalkboard, equations of pain
Wolf-like love is barbarous
With strength and unknown source
Making paleontologists argue back and forth
Back and forth
Back and forth

Hours of sand fell to draw out the morals of fables
Only give the answer to the maidens of the sun
Carry your swords to protect from the hordes of hounds
With teeth of venom of the priest and the nun
Filled with conviction to manage the meaning of songs
Of the lonely that give terror to the young of heart
Cradled by willows that never learned to weep from the start

Your hair is a radiance, a lion's mane, the sun
It dictates my circadian rhythms