Looking for an orphanageThe tiny brown grasshopper stays one hop ahead of me as I wander down the sidewalk in the oppressive, magnified sun. For those who said I would have a difficult time keeping my grip on the wet, sharp edge of life here, they haven't seen the new snowglobe in which I reside, in which all streets are dead ends and the borders are the mountains and the sea. And the sun shines all the time.
I'm looking for a bridge I can't burn down
I don't believe the emptiness
I'm looking for the kingdom coming down
Everything is meaningless
I want more than simple cash can buy
Happy is a yuppie word
Nothing is sound
Happy is a yuppie word
Nothing in the world could fail me now
The grasshopper doesn't care if it's a quiet neighborhood or if it's dry or if he's walking in front of a fuzzy little white giant with a black nose and four paws on the ground, watching him with great interest. Bonham is too hot to chase grasshoppers today. There hasn't been a cloud in the sky for weeks.