Wrists shaking
Wrists shaking
Wrists shaking
Wrists holding on.
Tight. So tightly 
That my

Wrists shaking
Wrists shaking
Wrists shaking
Wrists being held.
Loose. So loosely
That my

Head spins
Kaleidoscope in the stars
Morning in my eyes
Path straight forward
Narrow bridge there
Spikes below...
No below.

But no matter.
Because your feet will kick up dust
Either way
And the horizon is always the target.

So,

GO!