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| 2. |
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Behold the masses
Armed with their vile words Words that cut deeper than the sword The orchestra of hecklers Will never cease the ruckus As I am no audience Worthy of their acceptance Do your worst my friend For we shall meet again My disease has stricken everyone Twas I who made you ill Now this body you wish to kill But today is the day and I'm still mine To me, the tears I see are gold The hearts I've touched burn cold And in the darkness of the midnight sun I know, regardless, MY WILL IS DONE |
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| 3. |
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| 4. |
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| 5. |
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Repetition is a business.
For only eight hours a day You can exercise your way (into acceptance). You're living and walking asleep. While the wolves are herding their sheep (into acceptance). And in time, we all forget. Forget that you're throwing time away, And life is passing you by. |
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| 6. |
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Onward we went with footsteps.
The avarice. And I attentive to the shades and the weeping. Downward the bend. The shadows appeared to be dead. Wonder, aware that I was living. The people I saw beneath it. They lift their hands and cry And I now know why. Towards the leaves looking for protection. But it drives them back and from itself. Sequestered. I saw the tomb. Eyes in disdain in horror. That is the empty ghost. Watch it wash over me. I am the empty ghost. Watch it watch over. The shadows lift their heads to die. And I know why. Aware that I was living. |
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The curtain opens. Let the masquerade begin.
And we're all guilty. Sing a little song. Do a little dance. But actions speak louder than words. And our words are only audible to animals. Makeup covers up our faces while covers make up our faces. And for who? And for what? Fragments dissolve. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. So the orchestra carries a favorite tune, But the conductor is nowhere to be found. The sun hits its highest peak at noon. Imagine the earth but without the ground. |
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| 9. |
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| 10. |
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How can staleness be so enjoyable?
We follow the herd We fit in so well We've got the formula down And the money is rolling in Wait...wait... We need a dance part here. Wait...wait...wait... We need a dance part here and here and here We can start again Go back to what it meant back then When things just weren't so unoriginal |
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| 11. |
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To base your life around an uncertainty seems like absurdity.
No formulas, variables, roots or grids. The questions unanswered will remain unsolved and people claim they evolve. A second of time can be an eternity. So close your eyes and watch the shapes float. The vast space is becoming compact and with no air to breathe are we essentially lifeless? Goodness does not equate to following a scripture. When the lights go out and the buildings burn down does the space remain occupied? And when walking awake every breath you don't take leaves a fragment that's partially blind. My pen is slowly running out of ink so scribble this down: To dream in life is to live in death. |
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