Flying Rat

​They sing on the breath of god floating await for a sigh for a knew direction.No past no future just pure white lights of awareness.

No cares as they put us under the microscope praying for our generosity.

We see them on a happy day were the waves think their different from the sea and the fish look for water.

The scraps we throw bring's them down like Concord with it's wheels down.

O' how proud with their chest's puffed out,know they own the beach,so watch your chips now their thieves.

O' them dirty Rats.