On building homes for fallen angels:When I was small - I sought a home,a place to go and rest my bones.Then founded something, of my own,I lived among the restless stones.If seeking leads you back to evil,what good is that, I asked a weevil.He said a home is what you make,it can't be real, if it is fake...And if you wait instead of seek,will you find love, or something bleak?I know (myself) for I have found,a beauty, hidden – in a sound.Waiting is boring.And so is exploring.A smile is sometimes all it takes.And then your whole world simply breaks.

beautiful beauty bleak bleakness bones boredom boring breaking children discovering discovery entirety exploration exploring fake family finding foundation founding hidden hiding home knowledge knowledge of self little living love music nothing ownership place real reality resting restless restlessness seeking self knowledge simple simply something sometimes sound sounds taking waiting wholeness