Bombed

Now my mind must go on holiday, torn from its hook.
I see the smoke from a revolver, will I get hit? I hardly care.
When I'm bombed, I stretch like bubblegum, and look too long straight at the morning sun.
Love there are flowers along the avenue, all things perfectly in place.
Because you're fire...

Squares

I seen the demons, but they didn't make a sound. They tried to reach me, but I lay upon the ground. I seen the people, but they didn't make a sound. They tried to reach me, but I gave the runaround. I reached for feelings, but they didn't make a sound. They tried to reach me, but I lay upon the ground.
Daydream, I fell asleep beneath the flowers.