I walk the quiet streets, I hide behind the morning rain
Reflecting water forms a stream inside my brain
Cardboard people stagger past me, sometimes I want to ignite them
A witty phrase, a rude remark under my breath might excite them

If you feel as I feel and you want to wake the world    (if you feel like I do)
We'll write a secret language for shaking up the girls  (come on up)
And you can carve your initials in my treehouse
Carve your initials in my treehouse

Cosmic rays probe our minds, seek and ye shall find
All these people packed in cans, shall we see what's inside?


(c) 1996 Laureen Brian