When your eyes are painted charcoal
and the morning dew hits your nose,
and rows of fresh roses tickle your toes.

Don’t look at the sunrise and think
that it might mean something new,
there’s nothing that you can do.

The streams ebb, and memories fade,
while you look to the stars and see
nothing, and most certainly not me.

When your eyes are painted charcoal
and the morning dew hits your nose,
and rows of fresh roses tickle your toes.

There was a howl, as the faucet began to drip drip drip, and the creaks of a house built too long ago stretched her weary bones as the faucet proceeded to drip drip drip, and a man and a woman held on tight, this memory being just a glimpse, as the faucet kept up its drip drip drip, and a child cried as his toe was stubbed, and still the faucet dripped dripped dripped, and the family fixed it, and so it stopped, and grey was in season as the winter grew near, and the house was empty, and the family was gone, and yet the faucet again began to drip drip drip.

There once was a cage
pierced by the heavens
and plagued by the moon.

I saw you break out.
I cried, and you fled
into the river.

Tumultuous tunes
sang for your splendor
my candid princess.

I heard the gods' moan.
I saw man's revolt.
I tasted freedom.

And then I realized.
The stars remain high,
the story is told,

and I always die.

Nobody cares about
the leftover foil
from a long lost party.

Nobody sings the song
that peaked at thirty-three
in nineteen ninety-six.

Nobody catches the
girl with the thin straw hair
when she jumps from the bridge.

Nobody writes poems
about a dying ****
within suburbia.

I don't think my friends like me very much
and I don't think I like me very much.

A generic ex-teen sipping coffee
and all I ******* do is sip coffee.

Making a statement we already know
and telling a tale we already know.

Trying to be clever, wicked, and smart
and thinking I'm cool because I am smart.

So this song will end; it's lyrics are dead
and then I will leap and then I'll be dead.

Amongst friends sits the shrew.
A tear glistens so bright ,
he's happy, through and through.

Ecstatic young blossoms
resting amongst the thorn
crawling from the bottom