Serotonin keeps me level,
Bit too much and I would revel,
Treat me tough then I’m a rebel.
I’m the side stitch with every step you take,
The persistence of which is ache,
Treat me right then I’m a saint.
Meditation in the garden,
Hues of you and clemency,
Nothing much, no none of your projection.
Nothing much. Just astral projection.