i feel so far from where ive been...
///crashed on the floor when i moved in, this little bungalow with some strange new friends. stay up too late, and im too thin. we promise each other its till the end. now were spinning empty bottles, its the five of us, with pretty eyed boys girls die to trust...i cant resist the day. no, i cant resist the day.
///there are uneasy stomachs
with no way to console
&thoughts down on paper
the words that you stole.
there are parts played in time,
harmonies sung.
there are breakdowns,
&shakedowns,
&parts that ill hum.
there is spinning &twisting,
calm &then listing
the halves and have nots,
the things that im missing.
maybe its nothing,
maybe just bad advice...
maybe ive tasted
the words written twice?
there are tongues twisted,
in cheeks,
&forked at the ends,
with lisps
&wisps
of hair in our beds.
&are we dreaming the acids in throats,
or maybe the words i swear you just spoke?
do you remember the promise
of lashes on skin?
in backyards
(under stars)
with vonnegut hymns?
im choking &hoping
things work out like in books...
a nice sweet conclusion
after so many hooks.
im facing forward
&dreading the ride...
maybe were swaying
&sobbing inside,
but then again maybe
having the time of our lives?
(the results arent so accurate
when you count them by fives.)
now shaking hands with shaky hands...
well always spell the same things in the sand...
///&ill tell you something else, that you aint dying enough to know. theres still some living left when your prime comes and goes.
///there are uneasy stomachs
with no way to console
&thoughts down on paper
the words that you stole.
there are parts played in time,
harmonies sung.
there are breakdowns,
&shakedowns,
&parts that ill hum.
there is spinning &twisting,
calm &then listing
the halves and have nots,
the things that im missing.
maybe its nothing,
maybe just bad advice...
maybe ive tasted
the words written twice?
there are tongues twisted,
in cheeks,
&forked at the ends,
with lisps
&wisps
of hair in our beds.
&are we dreaming the acids in throats,
or maybe the words i swear you just spoke?
do you remember the promise
of lashes on skin?
in backyards
(under stars)
with vonnegut hymns?
im choking &hoping
things work out like in books...
a nice sweet conclusion
after so many hooks.
im facing forward
&dreading the ride...
maybe were swaying
&sobbing inside,
but then again maybe
having the time of our lives?
(the results arent so accurate
when you count them by fives.)
now shaking hands with shaky hands...
well always spell the same things in the sand...
///&ill tell you something else, that you aint dying enough to know. theres still some living left when your prime comes and goes.