Parakeet

you wake up in the morning and fall out of your bed mean cat eat parakeets H and this one's nearly dead. you dearly wish the wind shift and greasy windows slide open for the parakeet H who's colored bitter lime. open the window and lift into your dreams lately, baby H7 you can barely breathe. a broken wrist an accident you know that something's wrong you fold the leavings of your past H no one knows you've gone. the sunspot flares of the early nineties light up your wings. and scan the shortwave radio H it's tracking outer rings. open your window to lift into a dream baby, baby H7 you can starts to breathe the tectonic dispatcher shifts to smooth the ocean floor and flattens out to warmer winds H of Brisbane's sunny shore. where buddhas tend to mending wrists a tea made from the leaves of eucalyptus fragrances H and coriander seeds. open the window to lift into a dream baby, baby you can starts to breathe. open your window to lift into a dream baby, baby H7 you can starts to breathe you wake up in the morning to warm Pacific breeze where mean cars chew on licorice and cannot climb the trees.