HEAVEN

Heaven child is a different kind of velvet
Makes you turn awhile and never want to care
Like a hundred thousand miles
Without checking oil
Brings you a different style
Where people like to stare

Pouring the salt into the soil
Spilling the milk left to spoil
Kiss the honey without getting the stung
And blow the bubble without swallowing the gum

I said heaven child is the dirty laundry
Left out to dry with stains that never fade
It’s the escapade that held up the savings
The monies that got away blew up in your face

Primary colors left askew
Looking for a different shade of hue
You’ve got the fingers stuck in the bubble gum
You’ve got a wasp looking for an unaccounted sum

Heaven child is the northern lights
The aspen branches looking for delight

-- words, music, and sampling by Ian Colvert