Ceiling

I endure stroking my head on the cranes
Well, now they alone are all just one in the same
Demean and try to walk about
Among stolen signs that talk about
A passion that lies, well, easy now
Maybe I was found
Just bathed in doubt

I'll scan a different coast
Where my blame can lay and roast
In the heat of my own treason
Just as another pavement toasts
I remain aware of those
When consumed to paths of reason

Now do you stew your lovers croak to the glue of your own throat
When the scenery starts peeling
This is the final line I wrote
When applying the final coat
That would bring down the ceiling