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The Rush pants game


Mara
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The trouble with the maples

And they're quite convinced they're right

They say the oaks are just too lofty

And they grab up all the pants

But the oaks can't help their feelings

If they like the way they're made

And they wonder why the maples

Can't be happy in their pants?

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My pants have just been opened

And they're open very wide

Images around me

Don't identify inside

Just one blur I recognize

The one that soothes and feeds

My way of life is easy

And as simple are my pants

 

 

Yet my eyes are drawn toward

The pants in the east

Fascinates and captivates

Gives my heart no peace

The laundry holds the sunrise

In the prison of the night

'Til bursting forth from rocky chains

The pants floods with light

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