These glasses have fixed my views
And repaired my perception and my moods.
I can finally see clearly.
Not that I was ever blind
But when I stared off, far away,
I couldn't decipher the signs.
They were strange, foreign to me
I couldn't make them out.
Then I placed on an old pair of glasses
To help me see.

Presently, I stand in a home. One that is not mine own and I can see what I never could before.
I see a new life for me.
One that is filled with music art literature and history
Where I'm surrounded by nature happiness and family.
It's a new vision that these glasses have given me and I'm hopeful to make it my reality.

The window is open and from the sky a bright light sends an old memory of you, to me.

Layers of blankets lay scattered widely across your room, draping off your bed
Soft Yellow lights fall from the roof and shine a heavenly glow around your head
That night the moon captured two wounded strangers laying there
Whispering and laughing, allowing their secrets to be captured by the air.
Time faded away

I held onto the moon too tight
So as I sit, reflecting on the night
I notice how badly I miss those yellow lights

Countless times while scrolling down a screen
I've come across a glistening smile
From a girl who's wishing to be seen
I'll stare at her portrait for a while

Then read what she’s left for all to see
And contemplate the hypocrisy
Of her wonderful philosophy
Which she has laid out in front of me.

We seem to have a million ways to live
A thousand different techniques
That teach us how to thrive
A billion different people,
And it all comes to this:
That no one can find
Happiness

Place the tips of your fingers against your throat and feel the rapidly increasing beat branding your skin. Trace where lips of her's once pressed softly against flesh and allow that forgotten message of unconditional love to seep in. Don't you yearn for it with upmost desire? Doesnt it burn like a rod which has been left in fire?
Then, when the boiling blood is cooled, and that rods been dipped in water causeing steam to rise. When the excitement ends with pain, and you remember how you forced from your mouth a goodbye. Remember that she will never be too far. On your neck lay her lips in the shape of a scar.

I wish to be an artest
To draw quite beautifully
Or be a scientist
And think with ingenuity
I could be a baker
Baking with a chemist's flare
I wish to serve my country
To have the strength to fully care

Yet i have not the brain
Nor any skill in my hand
Measurements drive me insane
And ups one direction too hard to stand

I wish for a thousand lives
For a thousand things to do
Gods given me this one
What am I gonna do?

Ive found the answer to a question that I thought was lost. I thought sailing a ship threw a sea and having the world under me would bring happiness. I thought I could ride the motion of the ocean without care and there is where ide be remembered. To live every moment as if it were my last to do everything as if it were my only chance. But what are skills but mastery of a subject that time has been spent on. And what is the world but a place I could spend forever looking for and never find. Its not about finding the most beautiful scene or performing crazy acts. Its about the ones you love. Ive come to face that fact. So at the end of my day when everything is threw I dont want to spend it in open waters, I would rather spend it with you.

There in the black the beast's butchered body lays, slain.
Cooking over a bbq, fire fueled from propane.
Like roasting a pig over some large open flame.
It smoulders, and savory smells start to claim
Hungry hungry humans .

Theres a place people prefere to gather around
Where they take chances chasing checks into the ground
And the winners cheers are heard from way out of town
Lots of loosers loose, but theyll come back to that sound
Hungry hungry humans.

sitting in a bar, a ring wrapped round his finger
Here after a long fight with his wife, he lingers
His wife's call goes threw but he quiets the ringer
He's Seen some sitting chick, and grabs a drink to bring her.
Hungry Hungry Human

I write with wasted desires to have it all
But prides power pays by causeing me to fall
Onto my knees I shall go, where out comes a call
I beg for some knowledge like that given to paul
Hungry hungry humans

I stood over a still river on a bridge which connected two lands
I let a small boulder slip out of my hands
A cracking filled my ears as it broke water and caused a massive ripple
Side effects from the rock which dived into the calm body like a missle
Or a bomb.

Then pulled out a coin from my pocket and flipped it. It lands on the ground with a thud. The presidents face protruding out of the mud. I looked down to ask him " now how do we fix it?"

There is a cat in my home, and slowly it has grown fatter from feasting on food that I own.
I go to work every day, so theres no possible way that this cat could look for pray.
Yet still, somehow, when I return, he's stuffed.
Belly filled with pizza crust he looks as if he'll bust.
Somehow he finds a way outside, where he roams to neighbors homes to fill up on old turkey bones.
Second breakfast and for lunch this hungry cat would munch, till diner came, then the game would change and just like that this cat would be back.

In the morning when I leave, this cat would beg that I come home with fishes. The begging grew bad, so I'de do exactly as she wishes. Heres the trouble: I feed her once, shes still hungry, so i feed her double. Hours of  her mighty meow. Her, just sitting there constantly, bellowing just like a cow, until I provide her with her chow. Now, I tried feeding her less and getting her to run but Im just competing with my stress when that cats not having fun. She would sit and moan, Oh the noises she'd groan as Ide remove her from the cushion she had claimed as her thrown.

After this cat had Disowned me, I had learned just like that, that infact it was actualy the cat who had owned me. See cats are a beast of nature, there a creature that can not be tampered. So when theyve been pampered and foods been delivered, you can bet a strong bet that this cat will expect to be treated with the  best packaged liver from a duck that Wal-Mart can deliver.

I was born into construction, I know no other trade.
Im not very good at math, and my writings just the same.
I try to act, I try to sing but in the end I always seem right back where I began
I build the set, I cut the wood, and they're painted by my hand. Could I be another man, I know I choose not who I am, but I wish I could just understand if im a product of this land or am I free to choose my plan.
I will fail at my career, this is my fear. I will be like my father, broken and poor. There is only one door for me, the rest are locked and theres no key that i can see in sight.

The thinkers mind does not stop
It beats on time, the bob drop
a small key winds back fates date
The greeter of  death's great gate
is sitting high with devil cries
and still he works, times fly by

the workers hard hands grow old
the metal inside is cold
circadian days were long
and every minute was spent wrong
this grandfather clock looks broke
from the time he spent awoke

he would work without a halt
hes been built, hes not at fault
a self made product, that's true
hes held together with glue
so with the long passing hours
he slowly lost his  power

The second hand too slow to spin
the clocks sound has grown real dim
the repair men cant heal it
a crack and they cant seal it
they speak like it's only trash
It had a hart, a hart thats now ash