| hey, whatever happened to S.A.R.S.? [listen] |
| after the downpour i was left with rusted iron lungs my mind erases pages, tucks them underneath your tongue think back to times when in the darkness supposed to be fun and i think it's funny how we blamed it on the fact that we were never alone. and i don't ever want to live again. because it's easy, it's breathing that's the demand. that's what it takes to feel alive. fill the pages up with your regrets regrets are all that you've got left this is the shelf of lies. just file under "wasted days." and if days of numbness sting, then cry out into empty alleys. and if love means anything, then try it. just know that i am not redemption. (this life lies like lies like four magazine pictures dissected and i try i wait for my memories to get disinfected) |
| my very own tyler durden [listen] |
| distontent with lower case is all the rage. marking green lines, sketching travels on airplanes. [i'm a believer in talking and sharing these things. and holding them closer than bodies should be.] blowing halos in even time that will radiate into nighttime. walking streetlights to feel alright and make it home. make the automation shake as the buildings topple slow. in a deeply-buried dream we would watch from way up close. |
| first aid [listen] |
| when the body dies from smiles of fire and eyes of stone... in the perfect life we danced barefoot on lava flows. i had dreams of this, a burning day under a setting sun, fading into nights where i'd hang a million stars one by one. [and i'm wondering if i'll ever meet you there? if the release will win uneasy stares? i'll be the reaction, if you'll be the cure. i'll be the disease if you don't want to talk about it anymore] and the meaning gets lost inside our breathing rate. disappearing walls, when we open our eyes, stop their decay. in the morning light i promise to keep the window blinds shut tight, and stop that sinking feeling you get from waking up alone. you'll never have to feel it again. all we are is all our worst mistakes. |
| wooden nails, metal floor |
| red flashing lights and lines for the big parade and from the rooftops hang the blackest drapes to frame the streets that i've arranged so when you walk them you'll remember me [i smoke because it keeps the bugs away. i've been swallowing this fire cause there isn't much to say tonight.] now it's starting to fade (in) again, the reasons for forgetting. solitude in manufactured endings. assembled by desire to keep living. when will i wake up? |