if i were to paint the stripes black and red
seraphims sake on how my hands make
the recluse in a black house is not alone in a black night
the sea reaches the docks as i read in the old book
the clock is a moon
and a sun is black
turned and tossed in a frying pan bed an i smell the tears burn
and i reach the night sky
and alas i see the hands in the stars and the handwritten
nothing shoots like a comet
and it reaches out with hands to a letter
and i smell the night and all of its foxes
the written note was salty from black sea water
and i tried to taste the letters
they were red inked and stabbed in
like a pillow and feathers all over the place
a disgrace in the dining room with the knives on the floor
they were all over the floor
they clanked like a broken march
playing at midnight
the members of the band were adorned in christmas lights
where they got the energy to light them
i don't know...
where they got the energy
they got the energy from little glow bugs of different colors
and then sworn them to secrecy
like a curse in the rearview mirror
sweeping up the road like a grey lion
like a black and white twilight jungle
i was forced to do it with my own eyes
and there was nothing left except for the stains
the stains in the carpets, black ink, blood red
and mixed together
a flag of all sorts to measure the day
what goes on here is between you and me
what goes on over the white fence i
hear the lights i have been given
these days
will prove that we are something in return
that you can never take back
please Lord, don't take it back
thank you for the light
i will never run past the winning ribbon of the neverending race
in the skys i reach for the blackbird
he sees the smile i have embroidered on the black flag
and muscles become armor
covered in smoke wagons on a Mexico dying day
the recluse in a black house is not alone in a black night
the sea reaches the docks as i read in the old book
the clock is a moon
and a sun is black
turned and tossed in a frying pan bed an i smell the tears burn
and i reach the night sky
and alas i see the hands in the stars and the handwritten
nothing shoots like a comet
and it reaches out with hands to a letter
and i smell the night and all of its foxes
the written note was salty from black sea water
and i tried to taste the letters
they were red inked and stabbed in
like a pillow and feathers all over the place
a disgrace in the dining room with the knives on the floor
they were all over the floor
they clanked like a broken march
playing at midnight
the members of the band were adorned in christmas lights
where they got the energy to light them
i don't know...
where they got the energy
they got the energy from little glow bugs of different colors
and then sworn them to secrecy
like a curse in the rearview mirror
sweeping up the road like a grey lion
like a black and white twilight jungle
i was forced to do it with my own eyes
and there was nothing left except for the stains
the stains in the carpets, black ink, blood red
and mixed together
a flag of all sorts to measure the day
what goes on here is between you and me
what goes on over the white fence i
hear the lights i have been given
these days
will prove that we are something in return
that you can never take back
please Lord, don't take it back
thank you for the light
i will never run past the winning ribbon of the neverending race
in the skys i reach for the blackbird
he sees the smile i have embroidered on the black flag
and muscles become armor
covered in smoke wagons on a Mexico dying day