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False Advertising
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All of the Above
There are,
Five floors above me where I sleep.
Five under-which I've learned to keep,
My floating head locked down,
Silhouettes underground.
Almost, had the time to notice that you're here,
In between my conscience and your fear.
Creates a heavy cloud,
Things gonna fall down.
Oh no.
If all of the above,
Got lost,
You'd still be right here,
Not aloft.
Wake up from your deep sleep only to find thunder.
She tried to warn you,
Not pull you under.
Somewhere.
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I remember solemn faces,
Filling dark contracting spaces.
You try to find your place,
But keep eyes peeled in case,
You're wrong –
To assume that you would be like me,
You got out the way of this tree.
It,
Creates a heavy sound.
No chance to turn around,
No hope.
Don't pull me under
You don't pull me under the floor
Don't pull me under
You don't pull me under the floor
Under, oh.
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