Dude saw the steps.
The steps. The Steps.
He saw the cracks.
The cracks. The Cracks.
Between the steps. The steps. The Steps.
They were all around! Around. Around.
The cracks joined up.
Joined up. Joined up.
The steps stayed split.
Stayed split. Stayed split.
Steps have their place. Their place. Their place.
See, steps, he knew. He knew. He knew.
Steps can be skipped.
Be skipped. Be skipped.
But cracks cannot. Will not. Shall not.
It ain’t so easy. Easy. Easy.
Is sure is not. Is not. Is not.
They’re waay too big. Too big. Too big.
And waay too small. Too small. Too small.
Too small and all over for skip-skip-skipping.
Because cracks are the foundation of Next.
Where cracks go baby, it all goes.
It’s natural. Natural.
Facades crack. They crack and crumble.
Always. All ways . . .
Given enough time. (Don’t you give ’em any time)
Little cracks in an epidermis.
Little cracks in a fleeting smile.
Little cracks in forced laughter.
Little cracks that grow wild.
Grow wi-ld, grow wi-ld . . .
Damn those little cracks for growing wild!
Thank you, friend.