My dear brother, ol’ tiger that sleeps,
Don’t be bothered with doubts that may creep.
Kindle the flame ‘til fully awake.
Please don’t restrain and open your gates.
Are your stars out?
What do you think they’ll ask when you die?
Major Fielding, was that your best try?
Trust in your heart, it knows what you need.
Fear disregard and dig till you bleed.
My dear brother, ol’ tiger that sleeps,
No more slumber—go sharpen your teeth.
What makes you tick?
Smelling a flower?
Suffocating a bee in a jar?
What makes you want to dance?
Or smash someone’s face in?
Get it together love.
Your stars are always out.