taste the now

Verse 1)

Call the boy who juggles rain,

he forgets his name again,

spells it out in drops of lime—

every letter tastes like time.

There’s a staircase made of “if,”

floating slightly to the left,

step on one, it hums your age,

step on two—you’re off the page.

(Pre-Chorus)

Say it softly, say it twice,

truth is just a cube of ice,

turn it over, watch it slip—

meaning melts upon your lip.

(Chorus)

Hey—let the emperor lick the sky,

paint it pink and let it cry,

life’s a flavor passing by—

don’t explain it, just reply.

Hey—spin the silence, make it sing,

nothing knows what anything means,

hold the moment by its wings—

we are almost everything.

(Verse 2)

There’s a mirror in your shoe,

it reflects a softer you,

one who laughs at gravity,

calls it “optional, maybe.”

Counting backwards into green,

finding shapes that shouldn’t be,

logic wears a paper mask—

ask it once, it doesn’t ask.

(Pre-Chorus)

Close your eyes to better see,

open them—uncertainty,

every answer folds in half,

every why becomes a laugh.

(Chorus)

Hey—let the emperor lick the sky,

draw a door and step inside,

life’s a flicker, never tied—

sweet and strange and undefined.

Hey—turn the chaos into cream,

stir it slowly, keep it keen,

taste the edges of the dream—

we’re the in-between machine.

(Bridge)

Who ate the clock? asked the spoon.

“Not me,” whispered afternoon.

But the echo blinked and said:

“I just follow what you dread.”

Fold the silence into sound,

wear the lost until it’s found,

nothing stays but what we feel

for a second, almost real.

(Breakdown)

Drip—drop—maybe we are,

half a name and half a star,

pull the thread, undo the seam—

wake up softly in the dream.

(Final Chorus)

Hey—let the emperor taste the now,

don’t ask when or ask how,

every then is breaking down—

only this can wear the crown.

Hey—take the riddle, let it be,

truth is just a memory,

kiss the air and disagree—

we are what we seem to be.