Tiny Streams
Read Tiny Streams lyrics by Psychotic Waltz on LyroVerse, with linked artist context and related song paths.
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Tiny Streams
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Morning sun begins the day
Mothers child has gone away
Locked inside the game that they taught him all to play
Closet city sleeping pretty tired from the day
And if he leaves the tiny porch light dim
He'll keep the dogs at bay
Snotty little brat he plays
Never puts his toys away
Breaks the ones he's used if they don't sparkle anymore
Dollies in the playhouse kissing
All their little heads are missing
Chop their tiny hands with this thing
That's what daddy bought them for
Red and white's turned blue today
I laught to dry the tear away
Sitting in my ceilings face
This boiling rainbow webbing places
Smiles soft anger feeling shapes
Of mouths and hands in sonic scapes
Fingers spanning psychic burning
Black sabbath record turning
Pools of vision, understanding
Forms absorb to keep from laughing
Climb the walls, half inside them
Other side, air is thin there
Friends inside pull me to them
Cannot keep from laughing, laughing
Ripples from the portholes making contact
Center bending circles
Growing echoes of each other
Float reflections of this covered consciousness
Inside this eggshell
Masterpieces scattered not well spoken
Yet still undertaken
Tiny streams of orchestration
Flow into this fisheye car ride
Leaning close to catch his good side
Tiny streams of orchestration
What this page can answer fast
Who performs "Tiny Streams"?
Psychotic Waltz performs "Tiny Streams", and this lyric page sits inside the Psychotic Waltz catalog on LyroVerse.
Are there related songs to explore after "Tiny Streams"?
Yes. The related section below points to A Psychotic Waltz and All The Voices with a short reason for opening each page next.
Where can I find more songs by Psychotic Waltz?
Use the artist link near the top of the page or the related paths section below to keep moving through Psychotic Waltz's lyric pages.
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