As Al kisses Ark: do not shine those lights on me.

"Can you hear the audience appluad?" I'm not going out there!

And as for Ark says to the vulnerable Al, "My love to you is true." Do not shine your lights on me.

And before the curtains close, where do I go for now I seek shelter?

God only knows, I told you not to shine those lights me.

Police man, officer Sam,
with a pen and a golden badge.
To fight him you're not match,
Mr. Police man, Officer Sam.

Police Man, Officer Sam,
is that a gun in your bruised hand?
Try and catch me if you can.

Please Ma'am,
hide me from the big old man,
can you hear him yourself, Mr. Sam?

Elliot dressed in black for the wedding.

Elliot took my hand and said he; loved none before.

"And will you take me in sickness?" For the man was definitely sick.

And the vicor lit up a ciggerette in the Church of White Notley, the only fool in white. "I now pronounce you both... Well... You know." And the only two cheered and forced and was showed.

It could of been a happy ending Al.
But I can't help not loving you.

"Will you love me for fifty years?" The young girl asked beside the tombstone.

"Of course! I've loved you a whole week already, haven't I?"

And suddenly his hand was placed on-top of mine, and I looked towards him like glitter.

Under the arches, the school children watched the couplet conjoin as they face each other in bliss. The newlyweds and likely lads throw their flowers as they walk on the mud; puppy love if you ask me.

"Do you kiss boys, Muriel?"

"Sometimes, if he's charming."

"Well, aren't you frightened?"

"Oh, why should I be frightened? It's quite nice when you get used to it I would say!."

You breathe in day by day, inside a cage that tightly wraps around you like skin.

And you ask yourself in desperation: "Who am for I that speaks?" - Don't look down they always say.

You'll just be met by strangers anyway.

Hand in hand, we will love.

And eye to eye, we see peace.

But when I look at you it's war I swear.

And every time you told me,
the boy never cared.

It doesn't make a difference
to the love you shared.

Right here,
on the stage,
right in front of the public.
As they chant, as they cheer.

For the mugging of your blood.

In circles we go,
around we try.

But at some point soon,
we'll stop and maybe die.

And there you stand,
and not to loose.

But one day soon,
it's you who'll bruise.

And day after day
Repeated ground.

To fit you with a muzzle,
and ******* into town.

Red wine and flowers says the romantic run-away.

"And will I see you again?" Maybe when my face is white and not blue.  

The chocolates are nice Jack but I'm black and bruised.

And do you miss love?

Describe the scene, a dream that followed a horrible crime, and I must of played that album a hundred times by now.

A letter, one of my alluring poems from the mentally disorganised.

No collection of words makes one man listen, and the power to not notice a boy who stood still.

And I signed it as I did: ''From Alfred.'' with nothing but one kiss.

Because two more too many I wouldn't mean.

Brittle, but we cling; adrift from the very first cause which we mindlessly astray. - Only faith will liberate of you & I, and to stand hand in hand, powerful. We fight off our bruteful fears that chain us to the core of our very own individual fragile bones.

Lonely cold, skin.
My hands are shaking, numb.

Just another hand to hold it seems, another yet broken soul. And a thosound more men alone.

Could you love me again?

Warmth for a body bold.

Vulnerable, scattered all over the show;
One man sees life while another man died.

At least dance all around my naked body,
or should I be clothed?

I don't feel natural these days anymore.