This afternoon thunderheads loom let go of your weather balloon

Certain doom of one more mission out and over to the moon - overflow that way soon

If all we fought for was senseless laws, we gave up like weaklings who long ago lost their god

Impossible odds, but comparatively they are really not, there will always be parts and pieces of us under and in rocks

We often are childish in many ways and just like children purposelessly behaved

But somewhere else this will all be erased and then nowhere taking on a somewhere shape