What a vain survey
For aberrant motion
As long as this kite
Holds a tether
Neap finds retreat
A shadowboxer, redefined
Distant and discrete
And if it leads you on
There's something far more wrong
The golden jester
Playing the long con
So send it out
And rest assured
You'll wake to wet sand
Waves upon the inner coast
The whole flock in hand
Let it out and reel it in
Such a cynical pace
An eternal erosion
So long as the price
Is perception
Who cares what it weighs?
Save time, spend face
The evidence
Is a decoration
Bits of broken armor
Or someone else's home
All upon the inner coast
I'm collecting my old bones
Calcified and cold
I hail a lonely satellite
With a smile all its own
And if it leads you on
There's something far more wrong
The golden jester
Playing the long con