Incense

Called the night before Said you were gonna be here Fixed my room into a bore Not that you would ever care dear The sun sleeps And you’re near Sparks and smoke I’ll count the minutes While this pacing gets severe A few knocks Then you’re in my room Puff and smolder A kind of kindling With something to help you To love the surreal Even if it’s not real Think back to the feel Rewind the tape’s wheel To love the surreal Even if it’s not real Think back to the feel Rewind the tape’s wheel She’s coming down She’s coming down She’s coming down Olfactual Contractual Make a little fire So the memory is actual Non-retractable But all-factual Almost impractical Not very rational But she makes this so supernatural Her fingertips a drug that’s tactual Branding every moment invaluable The scent is not Detachable The sun sleeps And you’re near Sparks and smoke I’ll count the minutes While this pacing gets severe A few knocks Then you’re in my room Puff and smolder A kind of kindling With something to help you To love the surreal Even if it’s not real Think back to the feel Rewind the tape’s wheel To love the surreal Even if it’s not real Think back to the feel She’s coming down She’s coming down She’s coming down