Drumset in the sky, huge crashes,
Pounding drums fill up the whole place.
The bass drum, making the sound wave
With one giant head,
Is similar to a secret part of my head.
A ghost that's gone left in it's place
Instead a love for certain sounds:
Bass Drum Clouds.
Lightning shoots out of my eyes to blow fuses,
Not angry but singing my song.
Conducting with cloud hands made of moisture
And electric shocks.
Most of the sounds that come from my hands are
The thunder explosions
When I clap together, waking you up,
But that spell's wearing off.
Writer(s): Phillip Whitman Elvrum
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