Two tons of pressure on my shoulders weigh me down-
Train station’s drowned in piss and the stench attacks the town-
[Breathe]
A deep breath tries to grip my soul-
But tonight I won’t gain control-
My knees buckle and my legs give way-
And I lose three steps for every one that way-
It’s dark as death but it’s only five-
And I pray ‘Lord, bury me alive’-
Two minutes for an hour, the dragging flow of time-
And I can’t seem to get the rusty hook out my spine-
People mourn me with their eyes-
As they brush past my side-
I welcome what they offer, only after they have died-
Petrified in silver stone-
I prefer to sink alone-
Sip the bitter potion-
And fall into the ocean-
I need something to rekindle-
No more liquor, no more indo-
Only a shaft of light through that stained-glass window-
Fired like the sun and attacked by black-
It stood erect, with demons to it’s back-
Out of the water, a deep blue steeple,
Fought time, and chaos, and selfish people-
Hope’s a survivor-
Took a bullet in the heart from a Remington revolver-
Never comes in last, always qualifies-
To show me the world through rejuvenated eyes-
The air seems fresher-
The colors seem bright now-
And there’s not a moment when I feel I should lie down-
Blood pours through my veins, my heart races-
Radiant glows cover everyone’s faces-
Twigs snap as I walk and I rejoice-
That nature has such a crisp, clean voice-
I follow the path that the willows tend to lead in-
And breathe in the lush greeneries of Eden-
Everything blooms with a green-yellow glow-
Even the oil-stained shitty brown snow-
The blue jays and sparrows chirp to sing for me-
(Hope none of this sounds too corny)-
Bliss – a chunk of ice melts slowly to serenity-
A scarlet-twisted collard green puddle can’t stop eyeing me-
Let it be-
My steamy vapor soul flows knowingly out my ears-
Hovering above my Candyland fantasia still intact-
A new ingredient-
Shy yet bold-
The brittle clay is cracked-
The balance shifts and equalizes, rising to its peak-
My soul is losing tranquil flavor-
Far from dead-
Close to weak-
Midnight merges with high noon-
The crack in the ground slithers to the dune-
Beckoning thunder to consume my world-
Not now, it’s too soon-
While the fireflies and fleas are swimming in the breeze-
I’m on the verge of break-down, moaning please-
While the dust from the evergreen trees makes me [sniff]-
I trip, fall, scrape both my knees-
Uneasiness, it’s too quiet, look into the puddle-
A slight tremor is the ripple, the ripple equals trouble-
But there’s silence on the soil and quiet in my world-
I await apocalypse in the eye of the spiral-
It rapidly approaches before I realize-
And engulfs the whole horizon before my very eyes-
Boom boom in the distance-
Shrapnel, dirt, slugs fly-
Who pulled that goddamn trigger, I’m gonna kill that fucking guy-
Bones on top of dirt and dirt on top of bones-
The late king of the hill is Little Johnny Doe-
Struts and shocks and a long wooden box-
A killer in us shackled by God’s ancient locks-
Rip the locks off the gauge,
Half a cooked dust sprinkled sage-
Why me, why this plague?
And they wonder why I never act my age-
Where the hell am I? What happened to my life?
I was all about love, all about peace-
Now they call me the bloody knife-
I was found on top of smokey,
In the midst of Stokes-
Now everyday I wake just to toke-
And toke away the pain-
And choke my soul to sleep-
And strangle away the past-
Hoping that the roach ain’t stuck in the sleeve of my coat-
You see, he comes from the wild black yonder-
And limped past into the deep dirty south-
Blood poured out his mouth-
All his teeth were falling out-
And he couldn’t help but smile-
‘I ain’t going for a while,’ he said-
But he lied and I’m confused-
My mind was badly bruised-
I understood, forgave, for all the comfort that he gave-
And little did I know that ‘a while’ was actually good-
Life and the tango-
Hand in hand-
No mistakes-
Strictly missions~
