Bound together, two misfits
In a spiral of existence,
Nowhere going, going anyhow,
The world before them restless.
So, the night breeds thoughts
Within, without a worry where
They'll end. Easy when you're
Two misfits simply being,
And there is no reason
To drive anywhere particular,
Heart and mind free.
And the one feels every appeal
Of pulse and rhythm spiral
And cascade down upturned
Ears; he knows that it is necessary.
And the words too, and where they
Turn and how they linger long
And crisp, it lends to closeness.
And a tender feeling lights
Upon his inner sanctity of reason,
Pre occupying momentary thought
When she explains her name
To translate "she sings".