Does The Moon Play Only Silver When

I Try Not To Steal From Myself, But The Modalities Create Similarities.

Bows And Flows Of Angel Hair And Ice Cream Castles In The Air And Feather Canyons Everywhere, I've Looked At Clouds That Way.

And The Seasons They Go 'round And 'round And The Painted Ponies Go Up And Down We're Captive On The Carousel Of Time We Can't Return We Can Only Look Behind From Where We Came And Go Round And Round And Round In The Circle Game.

Inside Your Own Self Pity There You Swim, In Sinking Down To Drown Her Voice Still Haunts You, And Only With Your Laughter Can You Win.

Chase Away The Demons, And They Will Take The Angels With Them.