Tiny Streams Lyrics

Morning Sun Begins The Day
Mother's Child Has Gone Away
Locked Inside The Game That They All Taught Him How To Play
Closet City Sleeping Pretty Tired From The Day And If He
Leaves The Tiny Porch Light Dim He'll Keep The Dogs At Bay

Snotty Little Brat He Plays, Never Puts His Toys Away
Breaks The Ones He's Used If They Don't Sparkle Anymore
Dollies In The Playhouse Kissing, All Their Little Heads Are Missing
Chop Their Tiny Hands With This Thing, That's What Daddy Bought Them For

Red And White's Turned Blue Today
I Laugh To Dry The Tear Away

Sitting In My Ceiling's Face, This Boiling Rainbow Webbing Place
Smiles Soft Anger Feeling Shapes Of Mouths And Hands In Sonic Scapes
Fingers Spanning Psychic Burning, Black Sabbath Record Turning
Pools Of Vision Understanding, Forms Absorb To Keep From Laughing
Climb The Walls, Half Inside Them, Other Side, Air Is Thin There
Friends Inside Pull Me To Them, Cannot Keep From Laughing, Laughing

Ripples From The Portholes Making Contact
Center Bending Circles
Growing Echoes Of Each Other
Float Reflections Of This Covered Consciousness Inside This Eggshell
Masterpieces Scattered Not Well Spoken Yet Still Undertaken
Tiny Streams Of Orchestration
Flow Into This Fisheye Car Ride
Learning Close To Catch His Good Side

Tiny Streams Of Orchestration