Flying a Kite

Dear charming kite, do litely bite the foggy fields, the lowing lanes, the rickety roads and the kneeling plains.
Oh lazy light with massive might you dare my dream of snowy cloth felt snapping white as albatross is bitten by the wind and rocks, is hushed into the clary moss, is ushered here to count his loss.
My kite; pale cotton, willow cross- you take my tattered fist, It's like a catalyst. It's like a roiling writhing wall of 'has it come to this?'.
If this is medicine... It tastes like medicine. Just help me get it in...
Flying a kite, Flying a Kite.
Oh gnarly night it's like a dog fight, it's like a cat fight and if i could just hold you close to me... I guess I hold you close to me. It's like a bull fight and i see i give you a piece of my mind but i'm giving you a piece of my mouth.
You blushing boys how could you be so blind?
Flying a kite, Flying a Kite.
Look at my kite fly over foggy fields, the pungent pines, the verdant veils, the vapid vines and the thousand purple cups of wine. The tearing teeth and the four full tines, the crumpling feast and the dawdling dine. And you do get me off the floor, stand there staring for a minute like you never saw a girl before. There is the door.
And like the streets are like an open mouth I head south and you stand fair and square and i stand there until the fall blots me out. There is no more. The cat and mouse to block the door. There is no more