Mother Mirth

Singing at blossom with flower chains

The towers erected to higher stakes

Tiny drops and greater lakes

All the way through eternal Pennsylvania

It's a trip

It's a wall

It's a Rubik's cube

It's a fall, it's a body

It's a place

On the morning of the aftermath

Our goal was to have everything

On the morning of the aftermath

Our goal was to keep everything

On the morning of the aftermath

Our goal was to have everything

On the morning of the aftermath

Our goal was to keep everything