Listening to the world go by; people die people cry
Red eyed Mad eyed Wide eyed Sheep like
I see their twitching fingers upon sighing lips
concealing, displeasing, disturbing
They drive, they run, they walk
they crawl looking for the ultimate fix
Full of wine, full of whine
They stroll down the streets of vanity
where the undead roam
and the blood of the suicides
and the sweat of the whores
and the spit of the politicians
flow like the breath of the Unholy
War drums beat and beat and beat
beat to the beating hearts
beat to the bleeding hearts;
Bleed to the last drop
I hear the horrible cries across the sleeping city
calling to save them
From drugs and despair and tragic love
From soulless and homeless men
From unminding unthinking war-fighting
killing murdering soul-ripping monsters
I hear their blindfolded fears
Raging wars within their disquieted minds
hear their heinous crimes
laughing and weeping in climactic pleasure
longing for death after life
Screams of ecstasy, overheard above the rips of the skins
Billions of starry eyes upon a tearless cry
I feel their apathy underneath layers of cold metal
underneath oil and stone, and money and funny paper
under concrete and steel, and cement and rubber
under plastic and fabric, and sheets of clothes
Where they hide, under blankets and pillows
Where they lie, upon rose beds and under oath
I feel them raving and ranting and roaring
singing love songs and lullabies
while dancing to electrical appliances
and dancing to oil driven machines
Writing love letters to shadows
crying upon moving pictures
I smell their blindfolded fears
burning fires fueled with cold ice
smell their oil driven hearts and
machines riding the streets and
their dirty laundry upon endless puppet strings
and their ink on meaningless paper and
spray paint on the building walls
I smell their cigarettes and coffees and colognes
smell their blood upon their own hands
I see their closet doors creaking
deeps eyes gazing through
Bricks and stones and pebbles and words
thrown around the room till midnight
see them sleeping through nightmares
and dreaming through reality
I see them shouting behind closed doors and drawn curtains
see them conforming, comforting, condoning, conceding
and see them destroying, disposing, distorting, denying
all that is true
Red eyed Mad eyed Wide eyed Sheep like
I see their twitching fingers upon sighing lips
concealing, displeasing, disturbing
They drive, they run, they walk
they crawl looking for the ultimate fix
Full of wine, full of whine
They stroll down the streets of vanity
where the undead roam
and the blood of the suicides
and the sweat of the whores
and the spit of the politicians
flow like the breath of the Unholy
War drums beat and beat and beat
beat to the beating hearts
beat to the bleeding hearts;
Bleed to the last drop
I hear the horrible cries across the sleeping city
calling to save them
From drugs and despair and tragic love
From soulless and homeless men
From unminding unthinking war-fighting
killing murdering soul-ripping monsters
I hear their blindfolded fears
Raging wars within their disquieted minds
hear their heinous crimes
laughing and weeping in climactic pleasure
longing for death after life
Screams of ecstasy, overheard above the rips of the skins
Billions of starry eyes upon a tearless cry
I feel their apathy underneath layers of cold metal
underneath oil and stone, and money and funny paper
under concrete and steel, and cement and rubber
under plastic and fabric, and sheets of clothes
Where they hide, under blankets and pillows
Where they lie, upon rose beds and under oath
I feel them raving and ranting and roaring
singing love songs and lullabies
while dancing to electrical appliances
and dancing to oil driven machines
Writing love letters to shadows
crying upon moving pictures
I smell their blindfolded fears
burning fires fueled with cold ice
smell their oil driven hearts and
machines riding the streets and
their dirty laundry upon endless puppet strings
and their ink on meaningless paper and
spray paint on the building walls
I smell their cigarettes and coffees and colognes
smell their blood upon their own hands
I see their closet doors creaking
deeps eyes gazing through
Bricks and stones and pebbles and words
thrown around the room till midnight
see them sleeping through nightmares
and dreaming through reality
I see them shouting behind closed doors and drawn curtains
see them conforming, comforting, condoning, conceding
and see them destroying, disposing, distorting, denying
all that is true
1 comment:
I really like this one.
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