Can't hold, cant call, can't be anything at all, really
just feeling selfish then, the same thing now as then
bored again, a Friday come to gone,
a sigh moving towards a song
For when last I burned, she looked away, she
deftly turned her head as I reached out, and
the lit fingers, smelling of charcoal reaching
had no effect but to stink upon her nose
Its a funny thing, to twist upon the cinders,
it makes a heart a churn, a shudder so, a slow amongst the yearn
For all is madness upon the strewn glass, all cannot cope, losing hope.
the clog; a clutter amongst her lashes.
All I got was static, sweet music thought upon the other end.
Couldn't be bold, couldn't last, moved too fast,
only crash and burn and burn and forever to keep with burning.
(This machine is jamming, the gears now they are a are failing)
So if I walk away, if I choose the boat or gun or goat or ledge,
-the many miles out to see where waves where only God can find me-
will it matter then, the waves riding high, the ring upon the water?
Where are the places where the cool kids go off to play?
Love has seized that willing heart, did add another lock, a chain.
Drowned now, ever so worth the pulling down hold called nakedness,
These strong bonds, a body yielded to both, wielded so
Love that cripples upon the staying.
So what is the right call then, as the day begins to fade?
What is the right path, when the waves give way to loss?
What is the strong bond, that never yields to give?
What are the right words, when all the world is dead?
See that figure out upon the water, or maybe sleep down there in the deep swim
Its fine though - knew you would be selfish from the get-go, and
I hope not me thus to be for long
slow now, everything is just moving fine, if oh if now so very slow, spinning now.
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