bliss, out
rode the bleary edge of bliss today,
the air so sharp, its way of putting smiles to faces
you'll never know
the world's hard bit with trouble,
bad trouble and no cure
i rode so fast my lungs my heart
pumped good inside my breast
self-love so clear and high you're the star,
the keenest purest rest you ride her by
© Copyright 2005 Peter Chapman