Scott was like a butterfly
With dust on his wings
Flying his highest
On those glorious things
With wonderful ease
He began his ascent to the sky
The dust on his wings
A mysterious way by
But when he discovered
The nature of things
He could no longer use
The strength of his wings
And so, with his scepter,
He battled his way
In search of a breeze-blown
Fairy dust day
But he sunk shallow
As the green turned to blue
(With the weight of an evening hue)
Slipping as his fears
Became chillingly true
And when you discover
The nature of things
You can no longer use
The strength of your wings
Like a moth in a silly cocoon
He stranded himself in the womb of his room
And when you discover
The nature of things
Well you slip into the well
Of more practical things
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