words play more than children

gold mines rush puberty to get to the end of the rainbow.
yellow brick roads hold scattered footprints chasing stolen dreams.
raindrops dance on her eyebrows to mimic the thunderstorms on distant islands.
little girls dance on their stepfathers' toes because their real daddies have stepped out.
ex-boyfriends leave messages on the voice mail so you can rewind the bullsh.t out loud.

dark spaces can only be filled in with darker memories so the contrast can achieve some kind of equality, maybe even reciprocity.
meanwhile mother nature laughs at our attempt to make sense of things we cannot touch.

bellies dance with teen pregnancy and high school diplomas become dull in sight of baby bottles and footsies.
the murder rate goes up but more dreams die than people.
but who's keeping those statistics?

lakes dry and deserts become soaking wet with the tears of gods.
clocks work backwards in order to fulfill the prophecy of yesterdays intentions.
so even if your mind's on time, every molecule in your body is already late rushing through destiny's traffic to crash into fate anyway.

literal translation?
cali and new york meet for the first time and make love on the first date because they don't know when they'll meet again.
indecency grows out of desperation and a child is born to strangers for parents.
drunk and sex replace mom and dad.
and the hangover regurgitates the night's memories.