(no subject)
I heard this on the end of A.F.I.'s Sing the Sorrow album.
We held hands on the last night of eve
Our mouths filled with dust.
We kissed in the fields
And under the trees
Screaming like dogs,
Bleeding dark leaves.
It was empty on the edge of hands
But we knew everyone floated on the bottom of the river.
So we walked to the beach
The turned road curved into the sea.
And the shattered seasons lay in the bitter smell,
Burning was on you like a disease
In our kinder of passing our stay,
Death is a blind curb.
The sky came crashing down
And the three of us committed suicide
And picked up the shatters
And the ships of stars that looked like a mountain of angels
That spoke of the hearts of the undying kids
That lulled the skies to a stop.
A few insects skittered away
That in hopes of the past time kissed you on your hand
And asked if you were coming to the ball
But you made me realize
That my ticket wasn’t good enough for you.
You said the cinders are falling like snow.
Serious poetry and spirit
And we sang with unrivaled beauty.
Bitter elegy of sentry and eloquence of blue and gray.
Strange you ran down desperate streets.
We carved our names on the city.
The sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the moon,
Darkness and angsty kept close in mind.
Still we lay on the hills east
And drifted slowly outward
and somewhere in the wilderness lay our salvation.
The statue, you figured, was domestic.
We held hands on the last night of eve
Our mouths filled with dust.
We kissed in the fields
And under the trees
Screaming like dogs,
Bleeding dark leaves.
It was empty on the edge of hands
But we knew everyone floated on the bottom of the river.
So we walked to the beach
The turned road curved into the sea.
And the shattered seasons lay in the bitter smell,
Burning was on you like a disease
In our kinder of passing our stay,
Death is a blind curb.
The sky came crashing down
And the three of us committed suicide
And picked up the shatters
And the ships of stars that looked like a mountain of angels
That spoke of the hearts of the undying kids
That lulled the skies to a stop.
A few insects skittered away
That in hopes of the past time kissed you on your hand
And asked if you were coming to the ball
But you made me realize
That my ticket wasn’t good enough for you.
You said the cinders are falling like snow.
Serious poetry and spirit
And we sang with unrivaled beauty.
Bitter elegy of sentry and eloquence of blue and gray.
Strange you ran down desperate streets.
We carved our names on the city.
The sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the moon,
Darkness and angsty kept close in mind.
Still we lay on the hills east
And drifted slowly outward
and somewhere in the wilderness lay our salvation.
The statue, you figured, was domestic.