Spirited hopeless fortune telling man,
putting off what destiny never can.
Stopping times infectious constant beating.
Watching worlds pass with images fleeting.
Once they wave goodbye, he is there in black
and white, whimpers the leftovers of light,
and red pumps the blood into the smoke stack
and black surrounds the white with its thick night.
None of the hands on his watch are moving
but the gears inside are all still turning
around and around sounds, slowly burning.
The core of his planet always learning
He would rest their constant foreverness
in an infinite gest of loveliness.
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