It's 3:15 and the bell is ringing

When no longer found to other's vision
a beer gets drunk, and assholes get punked
signs get started and poems get thunk
wildmagic blooms in stars above
wild hearts loom the magic of love

When a beer gets drunk and assholes are getting punked
mankind is better for it
nuff said
except that perhaps nothing comes for free
when one tries to build a better futurosity

When signs get started and poems get thunk
consciousness is harkened to foam at the front
erasers get nibbled, conformity funked
and wheels get driven past driveling frivility
making what one prays to be a better day

When wildmagic blooms in stars above
constellations wave back and footsteps glow
doorways appear and overgrowth folds
sanctuary holds for your souls sojourn
past delusion, past preoccupation, and straitjackets alive otherwise.

When wild hearts loom the magic of love
glamours wished become reality
while perhaps nothing comes for free
the wheels get driven past driveling frivility
in striving for heaven for who wouldn't want to
when wild hearts loom the magic of love