Of the amber streetlights circling woodland edges, carnal helicopter flights of fingers swirl seduction into our suburbia  Pray tell, let me thrash one hundred branches across boughs of your skin  which never sees sunlight  Of the flora and fauna treat me like an equal until it hurts  Deportment is the balance of tongues o'er swollen...

  Of the amber streetlights  circling woodland edges,  carnal helicopter flights of fingers  swirl seduction into our suburbia    Pray tell, let me thrash one hundred branches  across boughs of your skin   which never sees sunlight    Of the flora and fauna  treat me like an equal until it hurts    Deportment is the balance of tongues  o'er swollen...

In 20 more years I may lose my parents and maybe in sick bodies.  In that time gap my son will grow to young age man.  These thoughts make us to sustain life.  If we feel we future is in our hands...