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.

Via Anchor...

The sea is a sheet I want to sleep underneath, beyond the mountains, that are jagged broken bones of locusts.

I feel the undertow pull my spirit out through my toes, it's shallow near solid ground, but it's deep where the sun goes down.

Don't you worry darling, the tide will take us home, it won't feel as though its been 6years living on sunlight.

Retreat to your hole, you left your fangs outside the trap door, so I carried the thread past the poor, I left a trail from the source, now when the village burns, it knows where to turn.

The old man magician, drew his ink, with the symbolic superstition, of all that was there before, and proceeded with protection. He sees the devil on Tv, and he sees the devil in material things.

We wear our face like there's something better, when it's from a mould we were chosen to own. Now for our bodies, to who do we owe? We are children of the stars, and its not just light in the sky, it's a dark sheet with tiny holes. You never existed in this world, it was just my imagination, because mine can create adoration.

The shadow was of a cross, but the man was just bones, so we all threw stones, the exploding dust were the memories, of all the philosophies, right infront of me.