We share a culture, same vernacular   Love of physical humor and time spent alone    You with your penchant for spontaneous advents   for sticky unrests be unearthed and then gone      You are a gift renaissance with a wink    with tendencies for conversations that raise bars   You are a sage who is fueled by compassion comes to nooks and crannies as balm for all scars      You make the knees of my bees weak   Tremble and buckle   You make the knees of my bees weak      you are a spirit that knows of no limit   who knows of no ceiling, who balks at dead ends   you are a wordsmith who cares for his brothers   not seduced by illusion or fair weather friends      you make the knees of my bees weak   tremble and buckle   you make the knees of my bees weak      you are a vision who lives by the signals of stomach and intuition as your guide   you are sliver of god on a platter who walks what he talks   and who cops when he's lied      you make the knees of my bees weak   tremble and buckle   you make the knees of my bees weak