Paper is yellow and worn around
The outside, collecting
Foreign objects and sounds

Hornets made home out of
My old bike
It all is in good spirits
We all are in good spirits

Bells stuble on one another
When wind is on call
When I put my ear to the wall
There is no sign of life at all

What is the sum of my parts

Someone send in little droplets
Mossy stones now change directions
I hope all is well in neverland
They sure haven’t given me a call

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