Nothing In Rambling

Waited on the rocks for them
Off the burning sand
We only just escaped that dreadful spectre

And all that fearful wandering
Had burst our strands
I guess it wouldn't hurt to take you back to the beginning

It's only right
Always had been a clique it seems
A lingering gang
A circle [?] whose centre was a box

Of some tape things
Reasoned to be free of ties
And so it seemed

Spending all those nights just barely dancing
A fire that could consume itself
And everyone between
What happens when you forget all those young feelings

Oh no
It's not right
Can't make it more clear
We're never going back again
[?]
Better off not
Playing with anyone but yourself