Tapioca tundrathe monkeesreasoned verse some prose or rhymelose themselves in other timesand waiting hopes cast silent spellsthat speak in clouded cluesit cannot be a part of me for now it's part of yousunshine, rag time, blowing in the breezemidnight looks right standing more at easesilhouettes and figures stay close to what he had to say and one more time the faded dreamis saddened by the newsit cannot be a part of mefor not it's a part of you