Disdain of flesh, Decay of sense, Working late, again, It remains unsaid. Burning bayonets, Arms, upon a chair, I, long to embrace myself, Instead of remain unsaid, Undead and lifeless.
He puts on a cap, Face like his dads, So they clap, Regardless, for all he lacks, Is what lover's want. Please come back, Please come back, He begs to a darkness, Change my path. Away, my hands, Take my grasp, At the other end, nothing Date, time stamp.
Best dressed, twelve steps, Yes, Yes... I hear you again. All spells in the end cast death: Glass tears the flesh, Mirror bears the self. Upon an iris fairer sex, Fake friend, fake friends, Upon a whitened feather bed. What next? All the white dissolves to red.
Dreamers dreaming dreamscapes. Mealless evening, Weakened breathing, People screaming, The defeated, being replaced. Cover the rear, cover the face, Coveted feeling, converts of race, Circle of fifths, dogma and faith. In the end, who pays? Cathedral ceiling, being replaced.
Every artist has a last work, Cherry blossom fall to earth. Scary monsters have last words, Respectfully, mostly bollocks, Withdraw the sword and worth, It's nothing after all you've done.
Give no lead, monster, It's a leash that draws me to you, Not drives me onward. Furtive, so be honest, What brought summer to autumn? You have no real problems, Dollars, and little conscience. So, be honest, give no heed, What is it, that changed your august, To a bitter, doubting Thomas? What is it that makes the sun set?
Love, and then opera, Justification, self-pardon, I understand your problems, Respect my decision, Artha, and Dharma. What was the end product? Neither husband nor father, Can you blame the audience? 'Someone push me harder, On the swing that I have built.' Respect my decision, I wished I had died a martyr, Rather than see all of it. I understand your problems, Love, and then Scarborough. Songbird, sharpened bones, Opera, wooden home. Love, screaming nonsense, I understand your problems, Respect my decision.
First of being, just first reciever, From the cathedral, screaming, Puppet Jesus upon the strings, Love only for freedom, not people, He cares not what they need. First of being, crawling from the sea, Into the cathedral, screaming, Puppet Jesus upon the strings! Love for only freedom, He cares not what they need!
May I judge? The chaos comes, Under veil of doves, not weight problems. May I judge? Love is based on trust, Something you know nothing of, Like plain hard work and using gloves. Broken promises, safe guarded, Imitation artist with an imitation father, Imitated marble walls to floor, How are those games you play at home? May I judge? The chaos comes, Not in the break ups, it's there all along. Eighty dollars for a game cartridge. May I judge? Are the games you play fun? What about friendship, was it there all along? Under a veil of doves, a veil of darkness, Changing promises, a raging monster.
Acting, unsatisfied. Static, over time. Am I alright? Everyone expires, I reply. As a traffic light, I stop and bathe in red. Still, I'm hanging tight, Still, I lag behind, Final, panting sighs: Fine, then, pass me by. I'd rather be alive than dead... Stand aside? I'll walk as you run one last mile, Even if it's by myself... Why do dusty, static people seem to find me? Am I the twilight in which it shines? Red, Satanic light. Active, social life, Better inside architecture, or the mind. But, then, Wherefore does magic lie? Somewhere before the asking price.
Three wolf moon, in your worldview, what do sheep do? Look at you and feel good? If they could, they would open their mouth, croon, and as the wolf descends, endure their wounds.
Am I a zero, or a one to them? When the computer sees me, What does it feel? Overwhelmed? Breath short of air? Alas, keyboard, come to rest, Like Gabrielle says to Rodrigo, I need a bit, this is done to death, Everything deserves an end.
When does Autumn become most cold? Just before it leaves, something more on the way to change the world. I am the minotaur, Harvester of stone, Holder of an axe of war, Pauperism, growth. Problems in the code, Problems with the board, It matters not, I guard the door.
Seeing his window, He thinks of rain, Is this for always? Water, over my face... He thinks of charades, Seeing his heroes, He thinks about change, Hands cover his face, Is this for always?
Poems over blogs, written over blood, Organ donor card, trigger, chosen one. For noble cause, admit the horror of, Important thoughts never come from dogs.
Shadow cast across their skin, Romance, Allow me a dance along thin, White lines with darker ends. Value passed through generation, Thank you, and oft veneration, And off to the races, White lines drawn to darker ends. And Why is it, he beats me still? Alas, Answers, White lies to darker ends. Romance, allow me a dance, Along lines, dark wide expanse, Around what lies in my bed, Along legs and under hands. I watch as the white lines dance, Eyes: water, shut. Demands... Then an end to nice guy acts, I'm not the one, but for now, I am.
Lettuce beyond where fences meet, Energy drink then vodka or whiskey, Every time, Identity card, receipt. I don't care what it's called, I don't care what it costs, At the end of the song, repeat. Let us be, upon the senses, feeling, Identity play: Sinatra, Springsteen. Every time I vent, it set me free. At the end of the day, I don't care what it's called, I dont care what it costs, In the end, sunsets to dawn, repeat.
Words leave her lips, Like a chord, music hits. Love scenes along with, Like speech, she insists. Roger, beep, Nothing more from me, If she insists, I proceed Olive tree, olive greens, All over obliques, seed, All over peaks, the sheets, All of it, comes from me.