oh somewhere where most eyes don't remain consistant with the shape of my own, a yellow tapestry drapes over the exterior. well that's the first place that i knew. when i feel elasticity pulling me home, i know these bones will never settle right back there again. maybe someday i could drive off on my own and go see what made these hollow bones. hey wouldn't it be great if i took a wrong turn and took the road all the way to cheyenne. i could stare at emptiness for miles, because up there it's a different kind of emptiness where i don't mind the rain and i hate the sunshine. these strings are tied tighty, shortening the line drawn to my wooden arms and legs.