You are the taste of a lemon in a book flowing in the middle of no were.
You are a planet hotter than the sun floating around.
You are an animal running faster than you have never seen before hopping around in a wood you have never seen before.
You are a number screaming silently in the middle of the field.
You are a memory from a cloud far a bit to far from Buxton were it is gloomy with the weather.
You are a flower growing taller than the moon with beautiful colours what you grow in the sky.
You are the end of the line flowing in the sky.