Seedy Seeds (The)
The Feeders
The feeders feed on my every wordMy syllables to sparks, to sparksAnd chew and spit my purposes projectAnd fill their lungs with dreamer lightDon't you need to race to be the first to the head?We feed the holes with our handsThe feeders fiend on my every wordMy syllables do swell, do swellAnd they grow up and up and on upAnd soon balloon—accumulousDon't you need to race to be the first to the head?We feed the holes with our handsThis reminds me of something, something we can doThis reminds me of something, something we can haveThe feeders feed on my every wordMy syllables are not enoughAnd chew and spit my projects projectAnd run on and run on
From Letras Mania