Ceiling Artisan

Match maker
Match maker
Make me a Match
Wood pulp, dried grass
Steel abs, stone ass
Potassium chlorate in Pyrex
Glue, red phosphorus up next
Oh let's not react
Keeping our distance leaves us in tact
Rose colored goggles can't protect you from that
Well, then..
Find me a find
Catch me a catch, of my own
MIT grad
Scratch that
Holden out
Gotta catch me in the rye
Making bread
Drinking whiskey all night
With plans to see through
At morning's first light
Sunrise, Sunset
Some broken glass
And we are both upset
Can't forget what was said
Can't forgive what we've done
There is no getting back
What was lost or the ways things could have been
Playing the strings of my heart
Light footed as you dance above
A jester,
Beckoning for me,
Or so I thought
A fiddler,
Come to tinker,
Come to tango,
Comin' in step to my melody
Something sweet,
Something sultry,
Got foul, like poultry
Flew the coup
It's an insult to me
Where's the loyalty
Always escaping, me
Caught light, put out
Smoked, screened
Stood out, side lined
Worried about myself
No more T or A just ME
Laying down the roof
Looking up
Waiting for a sign
Created up above