Untitled (Glasslands)

When I'm old
And I'm feeling
Like I'm feeling
Like an old piece of bark
That has fallen from the mold
Would I have grown to be so bold
To not fight it
And just pass on
How would it make me feel
Will I even like it

Grandma
When I look at you
How can you not know me
You've seen me growing a lot
Is dementia so kind
Like a child who is blind
And does not fight it
Lets it pass him along
Lets it make him feel
Like a still piece of bark
Burrowed on the coach
I guess it's all peaceful (ouch?)
Can think of nothing thing to say
Is that why I'm sorry today?
Well I can say hey you'll be fine
Write out words make them rhyme
If you'd like it
I would pass em along
If it would make you feel
Like I'm better with you around
And are we rolling
Are we strolling
Is that me wishing
Well is something pushing
Is it worth hoping
Or am I just coping
With a life thats
Only pulling mine
Or should I feel
Like I'm being walked like a dog
And how would I know if I was being walked like a dog
And would I understand to be walked like a dog
Cause i'd even like to be walked like a dog

I'm not trying to
Think of it
Just like that
All the time

When I'm old
And I'm feeling
Like not feeling
Like an old piece of bark
That is thrown from the (mold?)
Will I grow to be so bold
To not fight it
Let it pass me along
How would it make me feel
Would I even like it
And are we rolling
Or are we strolling
Does that make (machine)?
Or is something pushing
Is it worth hoping
Or am I just coping
With a life that's
only partly mine
Or should I feel
Like I'm being walked like a dog
And how would I know I was being walked like a dog
What would it feel like to be walked like a dog
Cause i'd even like to be walked like a dog

I'm not trying to
Think of it
Just like that
All the time

laughing
laughing on by
look out(?)

I've been thinking lately
that I'm ????
but she's been thinking lately
?????
I've been thinking lately
that I'm ????
what's she been thinking lately?
???

I want you to just feel good

Is there one sweet one that I must reach for then I'm done?
Is perfection a place, or just a glimpse at hard work's face?