Sir Prize

I see the flight of your awe 

And the fleece of your eye. 

I'm riding the escalator 

For the round side of you. 



With the box of flash, 

I made you sigh 

Capisci, dolce vita. 



I count your breath. 



I see the why in the mouth 

Of a ray in the sky. 

Tossing me out with the cup 

Of the old switcheroo



With the box of flash, 

I made you sigh 

A tiny submariner. 



It's a masquerade, 

The mouse-scapade, 

And a ruby in your twist. 



My array, Shaking hands with a cat in a mirror. 

My array, waking up with the blast of a cold, 

My array, my array, l count your breath.