Fantastic Pace

He was born in the first grade hungry little lion

Swallowed all he saw still he's barely alive he was a

Colorful person born of some colorful people when he

Opened up his mouth he poured some colorful speeches his

Home was a tar paper palette tyvek green house pumped

Into the culdesac gravel housing his house where living

Like the drinks are rivers, wells, creeks, oceans, bays

Every year we get a little older found in his ways "I

Hope he never grows, grows into nothing" he's not so well

Behaved what are we to do get him to the digging get him

Over in the corner got a little place out in the crystal

Fires no one wants you no one wants you no one wants you

What are we to do? no one wants you no one wants you no

One wants you what are we to do? no one wants you no one

Wants you no one wants you what are we to do? no one

Wants you no one wants you no one wants you what are we

To do? starving empty stares pushed it down in the

Parking lots the valley, lake, carrs and the riverbed

Hang outs a long way from the little lion in black full-

Body snow-suits snowshoe, goosebay and neighbors claims

On empty lots where guns and gold were goals given up

Given his pace below all the giants growing up at

Fantastic pace