Oh the wall I hit,
So often do I find you,
Closer than a comfort,
Now to greet a tired soul again,

Oh the wall I hit,
I wish you weren't so close at hand,
Or face or torso in between,
Alas, my tumble wound up your arms.

Double oh seven,
Special agent on a pajama mission,
To find the passing time within the day,
And the shadows in the sunlight,
Lobbing balls like grenades...
And maybe catching them again,
Ok, ok, this agent got distracted with a game of catch.