I find myself wound up like a toy that's Spring-loaded, and hustle and bustle to leave it Candy-Coated, for dainty the dish when is served under pressure that that we call freedom our Liberty (a Thresher), Though thought leaves impression, while at our discretion we might be the less for the making, however that shows, without dreams we impose only when the gift's there for the taking! Beneath us we call, from under the fall that is us heading down for the bruiser, but cushions abound, even though for the sound of us hitting the hard-place, we choose her. Lemon-rind can remind of the acid-bound rhyme, often chosen by Just-us, the chosen, Although we are soon bought by the other's who caught the wind passing them as the door's closin'. Take a step back, and don't look at that rack, there may be reasons found in the high-treason, cannot stay for the view, when I've only a few of a handful of friends worth the pleasin' So don't take this wrong, but wake-up!! , and be strong. Don't hasten to swiftly get closer. To the one's you'll recall, had you balance the ball, when you couldn't even stand it, and No-Sir!! So bite your tongue lightly and lead us politely on an adventure down-Thru the ages. With Liberty, and Just-us, I hope we don't Rust-Us and Recall what you read on these Pages.