Flying too low for the aliens to see

Maybe there is…something, else out there, more eyes or less, to see more or less, than me. Because Lord knows
I’ve missed a lot.
I’ve seen sunsets too much,
But always staring at something else when it rose.

I drag this piece of plastic with keys of white and black through the dirt. It hits grooves and rocks, rolling over the footprints I make before it.

Do my songs help you? Because they help me, so I hope they help you too.

And if there’s aliens out there, I hope it helps them too.

But I’ve been flying too low for Aliens to see.

10/15/16 12:09 AM

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