I believe the brain is a kind of balloon
Whose air breathed in and out
Floats in a sky of endless ideas
And moods that catch a ride
Thoughts snatched out of the air
That can be put to use
Thoughts that pass by
Hurrying off to someone else
We are the books that will
Have to be written to contain them all
But meanwhile the thoughts are working
On the brain to build a better balloon
One that can leave itself behind
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