Part Two: The Making Of a Soul

Edweena went to calumet and left from there to college
She took along a porcupine whose name was known as knowledge
Now their relationship was fraught with pangs of loving hunger
The Porcupine could question all, but all she knew was slumber

A huge easy cozy wants our kiss, our kiss to triumph
But unbelievable admits
Some questions, some questions
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How much marriage urges a windmill to pinch infinity?
Is a magic hid-a-bed the final home of Spanish fire?
Is firm corn merrier under gifts of less important love?
We wonder
But fantasy moves ahead
For the iceman just took a turn for the better
And a small object flies from his mouth
A daring, jewel scales down the belted ear system
And you have the modular optimistic silver original
Welcome to the offshoots of Jupiter

Edweena never knowing why her friend would ramble so
She shut him out and left a pout to bleed upon the snow!

Mourning Glories open only after noon begins
The open and the broken have begun to blend again
They freeze a shape about the nape of nectar and of knee
They leave a sleeve, they weave a grieve for mourning's never free
Mourning Glories open only after noon begins
The open and the broken have begun to blend again
They freeze a shape about the nape of nectar and of knee
They leave a sleeve, they weave a grieve for mourning's never free
Mourning's never free, mourning's never free, ugh
Mourning's never free, mourning's never free

The aching and the breaking are the making of a soul
The aching and the breaking are the making of a soul
The aching and the breaking are the making of a soul
The empties that have been returned relieve us of a goal

Now who is gone and who is right, and who is left to see
For who is left is just a few, can two be more than three?