March To Extinction...

You extended your hands, and stole the rays of the sun, you used them as spears on your hunt.

I Swallow Fire Flies...

I loathe the ocean, that swells in me, it drank my love, for its deep potion. Can we be King and Queen of tides, I lost my shirt on a raft, I swam back to the goldmines. I mined alot of bones, and insignificant things, I mined alot of undertones.

Vacation...

God was on holiday, when he created me.

He never took me seriously.

Pennies For Eyes...

You're a tiny star, and you're burning out. You are resilient with a curse, you are made from substance not known to man. I could never penetrate your pores. You sweat iced lakes, and pump blood faster than a machine. Everyone but you knows you won't succeed. You're a falling leaf. You are slow in your motion, your shoulders are weak. You are decay, hollow from the middle. You hurt yourself. You are bricks but no wall, you have the brain of all the wise that fell before you, but you know nothing.

Do you think god is watching? He can't see you, brittle leaf, falling in a forest.

The Playground...

Here we go again, on the merry-go-round with the slowest rotation. With the least amount of motion. The world spins quicker than every word spoken in anger, quicker than every word lashed with the brutality of emotion. While it turns everyone will die. We'll be left at the end of the ride with nothing to show for the time. But that's life.

God Was On Holiday When He Created Me...

My monotonous anatomy, my bland vocal branchless tree, drown my tongue with wine, let's tell the truth about a lie, lets just hide. Lets run with the fox and light fires around fields, lets kiss inside an igloo, that melted outside. When did they forget that they were young? I remember the time we ran from the bears claw. Rip open the sunset sky like a tin can, and swing on the wings of a divinity fish. I hear the wolves calling for blood. They say the souls of lovers are in the trees, and they whisper to each other in the breeze.

There are lovers dying in the amazon.

Bets On Dizzy Spell...

She was cultured, she was lean,

She was born from, the blood of Queens,

The night was young, she wouldn't sleep,

With legs so long, her thighs slept with me,

The tangled feet, in lovers sheets,

With fingers linked, you, lover, think,

You will last forever, in a dream,

Of romance and drama, only few achieve,

What they're saying, 'bout the day you died,

Was that you cared too much to hide,

All the stolen childrens memories,

In canvas bags, and leather chests,

So now the birds pecked, at our dead friends,

And you weren't there to stop them.