One of those fucking awful black days
When nothing is pleasing and everything that happens
is an excuse for anger
An outlet for emotions stockpiled, an arsenal, an armour
These are the days when I hate the world
Hate the rich, hate the happy, hate the complacent, the TV watchers,
beer drinkers, the satisfied ones
Because I know I can be all of those little hateful things
And then I hate myself for realising that
There's no preventative, directive or safe approach for living.
We each know our own fate
We know from our youth how to be treated,
how we'll be received, how we shall end
These things don't change
You can change your clothes,
change your hairstyle, your friends, cities, continents
But sooner or later your own self will always catch up.
Always it waits in the wings
Ideas swirl but don't stick.
They appear but then run off like rain on the windshield
One of those rainy day car rides my head implodes,
the atmosphere in this car a mirror of my skull
Wet, damp, windows dripping and misted with cold
Walls of grey
Nothing good on the radio
Not a thought in my head

Lets take life and slow it down incredibly slow
Frame by frame
With two minutes that take ten years to live ou
Yeah, lets do that.

Telephone poles like praying mantis against the sky
Metal arms outstretched
So much land travelled so little sense made of it
It doesn't mean a thing all this land laid out behind us
I'd like to take off into these woods and get good and lost for a while
I'm disgusted with petty concerns; parking tickets, breakfast specials
Does someone just have to carry this weight?
Abstract typography, methane inconvenience, linear gospel,
Nashville sales lady, and torturous lice, mad Elizabeth
Kaemotherapy bullshit

The light within you shines like a diamond mine
Like an unarmed walrus
Like a dead man face down on the highway
Like a snake eating its own tail, steam turbine, frog farm,
two full closets burst open in disarray
Soap bubbles in the sun, hospital death bed, red convertible,
shopping list, blowjob, deaths head, devils dancing,
bleached white buildings, memories, movements
The movie unfeeling, unreeling, about to begin

I've seen your hallway, you're a darn call away
I've hear your stairs creak
I can fix my mind on your yes, and on your no
I'll film your face today in the sparkling canals
All red, yellow, blue, green brilliance and silver Dutch reflection
Racing thoughts, racing thoughts
All too real, you're moving so fast now I cant hold your image
This image I have of your face by the window,
me standing beside you arm on your shoulder
A catalogue of images, flashing glimpses then gone again

Every clear afternoon now I'll think of you up in the air twisting your heel,
Your knees up around me, my face in your hair
You scream so well, your smile so loud it still rings in my ear

Imitation
Distant, tired of longing
Clean white teeth
Stay the course.
Hold the wheel
Steer on to freedom
Open all the boxes
Open all the boxes
Open all the boxes
Open all the boxes

Times Square midday
Newspaper buildings, news headlines going around
You watch as they go, and hope that some good comes
Those tree shadows in the park they're all whistling chasing leaves
Around six pm, shadows across cobblestones
Girl in front of a bathroom mirror
she slowly and carefully and paints her face green and mask like
A portrait
A green stripe
Long shot through apartment window, a monologue on top but no girl in shot
The light within me shines like a diamond mine
like an unarmed walrus
like a dead man face down on the highway
Like a snake eating its own tail
A steam turbine, frog farm, two full closets burst open in disarray,
soap bubbles in the sun, hospital death bed, red convertible, shopping list,
blowjob, deaths head, devils dancing,
bleached white buildings, memories, movements
The movie unreeling, about to begin

That was great

.