On building homes for fallen angels:When I was small - I sought a home,a place to go and rest my bones.Then founded something, of my own,I lived among the restless stones.If seeking leads you back to evil,what good is that, I asked a weevil.He said a home is what you make,it can't be real, if it is fake...And if you wait instead of seek,will you find love, or something bleak?I know (myself) for I have found,a beauty, hidden – in a sound.Waiting is boring.And so is exploring.A smile is sometimes all it takes.And then your whole world simply breaks.
love reality knowledge simple living music home waiting beauty family children beautiful restlessness discovery self-knowledge bones knowledge-of-self hiding fake real place seeking boredom little nothing exploration wholeness something boring breaking ownership sounds restless finding sometimes foundation sound hidden exploring discovering bleak bleakness entirety founding resting simply taking