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This is the time in space before we're there
I hoped to had the physics but none
Still giving up on Earth, ol' rocking chair
That mothball smell of why and left right here
But still can't this tired place
Or wide awake or tired place
Generation of the ill to not be cured
My brother's rubbing paste on his face
Quibbler's waste, oh so tired of sheets
Though before all at once, some of twice
Heard heart's timer riddle
I don't know how to say I'll lead you there
Admitting peril was the key before
We're all such me solipsism millionaires
How would I like these words to save your life
But what would you need saving fro
Or maybe it's our android art?
The wipe of household dust
To make a sneeze, ears open for the next one
Older brother states
Sis' will see it's crumbling
Nor more mouth with paste
Stabled horses will ride