1. |
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I've been told to never leave a hot iron running, but the world is burning anyway. Another house in flames wouldn't hurt. Not this time. Keep these visions in the gutters of my head, keep them away. Away from the hollow trees, with holes in their trunks. They don't belong here, see if I care. Counting sheep is not what I had in mind. Please, shut the door. Purity has no place in here. A scene etched in the eyelids, never to be removed.
As we play on the beach head, your childish joy. Seagulls overhead. Yeah we know, we're so far from dead.
Steel shackles don't adjust to thinning bones...
(That sweep was a joke)
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2. |
Prairie Mouth
05:55
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We know the truth, not only by reason, but by the heart. So call the wolves, and exhale. Exhale all hope you had for this future. We know how the story goes, reach for the sky, but be sure to touch your toes. To be loved, to be loved what a wonderful feeling. We are always getting ready to live, but never living.
And I'll be there for you, through hell and high water. And I suppose this is how predictions are made, and I suppose some people prefer this kind of debauchery, From dark cages to darker cellars. Even my shadow, ceases to follow me at two in the afternoon. I have no good memories left to lose. And "we break somethings just to call them broken"
One ship sails east, and the other west, byself, the same winds that blow. It is the set of the sails, and not the gails that tell us the way we go. And as it turns out, times have changed, but you haven't a bit.
As my blood drips into the soil, it fills the aquifer.
Next time, think twice before drinking from the well, lest you drink the blood you have spilt...
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3. |
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A slip of a lip can sink a ship. And perhaps this rising tide will raise all these boats, but not mine. And that will be just fine. And as tired as this old ship analogy may be, I'm using it here. For our ship is sinking, our circumstance grows dear. We don't have time to butt our heads.
And we know in our heart of hearts, that we're all fucking fiends in this great big world. And it seems that there's no such thing as innocence. Only varying degrees of truth. And you look like you just saw a ghost. Your eyes cry for mercy, but you'll find none. Not here, not here.
They say it's the thought that counts, but thoughts only go so far.
As we grow old, our beauty steals inwards. I sing this because I care, I swear. And I know this will take some time, I know you think it's okay, but now we're treading water anyway. And I fear the tears we shed tonight won't count, a few weeks from now. Maybe days, maybe hours. And as tired as this ship analogy may be, I'm using it here. For our circumstance grows dear...
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