Pulling the hair out of my mouth the wind was whipping through my face
the tile on the floor which I counted to see where I take up space
The anchor lifted it is not light it's heavy as a lead pipe
The orange I squeezed at the grocery store to see if it was ripe
The keyboards pounding and echoing in the information symphony,
the sparkling fish in the wishing well spinning silently.
It's so dark down there, in the center of the Earth.
