Turnover

Langour rises reaching, to turn off the alarm

And there's never so much seething

That it can't be disarmed

You just stop it up,

Pass it on

Shove it to shelf it,

To leave it off and turnover

Lounging against your weapons,

Until your muscles find lock

In the ease of that position,

A residue of tremor passes

As some cherie amour suggests

That maybe it was time to smash things up

But just stop it up,

Pass it on

Shove it to shelf it,

To lead it on and turnover

I'm only sleeping