HiveComb

Not in vain is the connection
It was actually the finest
And not the last
It leads to something fine
He met again on the hall
Something that was very tall
He didn’t know when he climbed
He touch it with his hands
Like a color in the town
Something he really likes to have
Buckling up his style
Just like the shoes or sandals
I was at the yard
And I saw all the spike
I speak to him with style
Not without the smiles
It was through the linking
When i speak of the linings
Some he got from the mining
Somehow very interesting.

I know what i am to do
I know things that are for me
My very sweet melody in my singing
Things I was aware in
From the time we start it
I would not say I didn’t see it
I do and I appreciate it
Those were from my childhood
We built it from the house
Gradually we graduate to the town
The voices were sound
Not just about the style
But for something we like.

I called it trust
Hands from specs
Meeting the true self
Something coming from time
Not my favorite hype
But from understanding and thanks.