
Thursday, February 12, 2009

I want to THINK again. play MUSIC again. be encompassed by ART. be in love with PASSION. have a heart again. live again. i know i will. the itch has returned. i know i haven't been completely contumacious. it's all been gradual. it's been fueled by anger & loneliness. still, no excuse. i dust off the keys & sink into melody like when i wrote my 1st song. i pick up the pencil & write w/o blanking out 2 lines in. every new view is a photograph. i see in math & colors. It's like antisocialhazardous portion organically nourished couraged to flourish and musics orphans Lunged nicotine dream missing languorous Caution we proclaim till brain's arch like Sagittarius Shield. Yield to the eye mescaline killer veals Stonegates marching moodily until plural styles amalgamated beautifully. Rudely awoke. Sing rumble blue conglomerates sucking up lung while brushing parasitic critics to my left side. I test glide kamikaze crashed to thoughtless on my preface. The therapeutic unit recommended. Now slow-mo Quasimotos teeter on ringleader status while I spit satellite photos while teetering on the stratus. Sleepwalking the atlas after none. Trudge and nudge my ninety-nine octane brain to one-oh-one. Run to organize my mood like quarterize my wound and climb up. Lovely samaritans line up like bar codes for a fraction of my factions. The hollow of his hand beholds contraptions via Amplified files collapsed in cacophonic conquest. My specs up. Morph hostille and docile insubordinance your phylum. For a dotta asylum swarmed your coordinates. Rush. Must not sleep, must warn others. I'll tourniquet your turbulence then trample on your stutters. If I could displace every vagrant in America with traces of my character the Earth would be a more pitiful habitat. With infinite acres of auto-cry eight can aid ya. Swung open the nomenclature to obscure wool-lock trickery. Pure Has not got tossed back by liquors supporting patience, working knuckles for audio duplication. That's like fiending for a purpose.
You taste bad!
Inside these wooden chests, we keep our wooden (hearts) teeth.
You've inherited your mother's bad taste in men and then...
The way we pour stiff drinks.
The way we fall for our dreams.
Oh, the things we put in our heads.
We've built this house from ice, and now it's summertime.
Who makes you suffer?
Is it you?
It's you.
It's true.
The way we pour stiff drinks.
The way we fall for our dreams.
Oh, the things we put in our heads.
We'll make history.
We'll make history!
Casting call or curtain call?
Do dead bodies make the news anymore?
Impulses of a madman with the conscience of a gentleman.
You were those heels when you kicked my face in.
And we'll live die hurt cry fuck lie quit try eat drink piss shit sleep and we'll love and we'll lose... and we'll hate and we'll win.
Skeleton key and countless sleep.
Like a school bus on Sunday morning.
I got drunk and drew/threw up my will.
I'm happy to know when the end is near.
And we'll blah blah blah and we'll love and we'll lose...
And we'll love and we'll win.
You've inherited your mother's bad taste in men and then...
The way we pour stiff drinks.
The way we fall for our dreams.
Oh, the things we put in our heads.
We've built this house from ice, and now it's summertime.
Who makes you suffer?
Is it you?
It's you.
It's true.
The way we pour stiff drinks.
The way we fall for our dreams.
Oh, the things we put in our heads.
We'll make history.
We'll make history!
Casting call or curtain call?
Do dead bodies make the news anymore?
Impulses of a madman with the conscience of a gentleman.
You were those heels when you kicked my face in.
And we'll live die hurt cry fuck lie quit try eat drink piss shit sleep and we'll love and we'll lose... and we'll hate and we'll win.
Skeleton key and countless sleep.
Like a school bus on Sunday morning.
I got drunk and drew/threw up my will.
I'm happy to know when the end is near.
And we'll blah blah blah and we'll love and we'll lose...
And we'll love and we'll win.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
