The curse of the smoke and the music.

The climber was formulated in heart and purpose to

Find the mountain;

Color was bred into the sinew to disturb

Love.

Each impression governs its source, and resembles the

Parent glance.

Sometimes when you speak--above the curse of the smoke

And the music,

I feel I should cover my ears. I don't want to disrespect you.

You have spoken. And I am living in the

Wish to lie empty as if you'd never but still could

If you chose to.