https://youtu.be/bISQXWdgRzQ

Oh self-ignition

I can feel her suitcase sensing mine

She was her own permission

Miss nineteen ninety ninety ninety nine nine nine nine

Charles James Sofa and a household truce

And her every Wednesday night you can count her grooves

I woke up in a house I could understand

The descendants of defendants were making demands

Gently thinking backwards

On the psychedelic promises God make to me in the dark

Some of these kids don't have words

They're as helpless as parakeets in a park

Couldn't believe it when I saw that you wrote

That a burning passenger shouldn't ruin the boat

If dreams are your body telling you its confused

Then I've got a dream I think you could use

All lace and fiction

In the lawless rooms where you finally lost your health

I read the evening edition

And the pumpkin on the porch is trying to heal itself

I don't like magic and I don't like tricks

Havin' a hell of a time believin' we exist

The mail man dreams he's Paul Revere

He wants the whole town to buy him a beer

And I have to remember that your not wanting me

Doesn't make me any less here

This is what we lost guys. A true poet and a hilarious person.