Life contains loves like stripes traced on sleeves, The ones you first met will be the ones you last believe. (Yet) We leave something out, overlooking the doubts, It is an exception we cannot throw, or perceive. (In theory) And as we conclude, and solve by our rules The apparatus transcends the enigma in our schools (We Believe) Faith is not blind! Great, when I sought you out, I could not anticipate Our planes of thought Caught aligned straight at current state. Call me “Cherry Chimichanga” Because I’m fried and sweet (SWAG!) SGAP, think with me, it’s a treat. This beat, this feat, is where we meet: Repeat this neat progression for caring feet: Axioms are obsolete when cannot completely Represent our world with our discrete leads. What fills the void betwixt the employed Observations, postulations when our beliefs are destroyed? Syncopate weak spots, be overjoyed, causation free! Allocate a melting pot of coy notations to decree. Sorry circuit, carry us The mystery of fermions Multiply lines of flight My eudaimonia Baby we could cut the world in two… So powerful our magic Trace capitals on every map you find These animals will take over your life (Spirits of things we are Chemicals swirl in harmony Reaching for something) Tree or root? Any will do Okay! Everyone makes Mistakes Turning the world To dust Building a place we love Memories of a molecule Push on, call upon your drive when you’re in distress. Exons to blue swans, arrive at the anomaly’s kiss. Believe, perceive, derive from what is amiss. Symptom of the count-as-one Love is undecidable Let’s wait till dusk and see The Owl of Minerva (Must we stake Everything on these girls?) Now we’ve conceived what I’ve never known, it’s (bliss) But now the minds have changed and the earth is turned; every eye catches the new light. The golden soul would parade over the world’s curtain in its lingerie. The marble would gasp and brush fuchsia the lilies, turquoise the daffodils. Even in chance of a lunar greeting, swimming fingers would curl eyelashes, Spilling grain and tossing hair, and in every house the wild coffee would stimulate. Shaken before the afternoon, curve after curve in the spectrum would saturate. A boiling taunt before the gravel would exercise its first grind, swift are hands.