the water steams, 10AM i drift apart from dreams/
with the sun above but my brightest star below/
i enfold myself around her but still ive yet to see her glow/

the water bubbles, 10:30 early spots of trouble/
her torn inner walls dismatle from Boone's Farm/
scorned, she self inflicts wounds til hugging tomb's arms/

overlfow, we drift in space, silence isnt overthrown/
it seems speach hasnt always lead to the better/
encompusing my galaxy I still cannot find my Heather/