I made my own stop.
I made my own end of the line.
  I made my own terminal.
   I end here.

Someone died here today;
the start of their journey,
and the end of my own.

   oil  blood  *****
    fluids of mechanic and natural origins.
     I peddle my wares;
      I sell my sweat;

I am an energy salesman.

I ride this rail on rubber, not steel.
I do not intend to steer clear
but still be clear when the front-end is near.

Electric elephants bound to acrobat playgrounds.
Painted Tusks as valuable as my soul.

I do not meddle with my pedal:
joules of life grow more valuable.

energy exchanged

sell valuables to pay for the funeral
or
dump the corpse and make a profit

let's make a profit

sell his ideas piecemeal to keep his spirit alive
or
sell his ideas to keep your addiction alive

let's be junkies

but he's worthless.
wasn't he always worthless? otherwise, he wouldn't have
killed himself.

maybe he hated you more than himself
maybe he never had the eyes capable of seeing love
maybe he's just selfish

the suicide hotline dropped his call, after all
how's a demented ***** supposed to perceive that?

you can't take it with you:
he knew that.
i don't think he wanted any of it when he was alive because it was just superficial asphalt repair for the potholes in his soul.

the road had to stop somewhere.

alien presence from womb to tomb,
in every room that awkward stare; that awkward glare;
what are you doing here? i don't know you. i don't want to know you.

amiable how-do from me to you,
my face may protract to a hue of blue; just a react' to the chance of contact.

and why this now after so many years?
have i not been open? - must i declare my fears?
must i be bare from skin to bone to even feel scarcely at home?

it must be the i - and not be the you -
because it's not in the eye - it's me that's askew

so now each day with the ebb and the flow,
the torturing, twisting, tightening is kept far below -
a smile, a wave, a friendly slight nod of the head;
i may seem warm, but i'm already dead.

Keep our interaction interesting, but not too long, and
I'll try my best to get along with everyone;
Lovers and liars that push and pull the mind.
Losers are just prophets that got left behind.

My only goal is to forget the past, but
Everyday it kicks my ***; **** me.

Who is She that has me feeling the way that I do? Who am I to question why a beauty exists so honest and true?
That essence is back, from before my heart was black, of when I was a youth.  

What is it though that compels me so to treat Her the way that I do? What is it now that always somehow strangles me til I'm blue?
A clogging vein, but a slight refrain of the days when everything felt new.

Where Her beauty lies, somewhere in my mind I take it to be fact. Where am I when I react and my self-control has snapped?
The sound of her voice, a wonderful choice for those who remain intact.

Why is Her priceless beauty deceiving? Why am I the one believing that it's all that I can afford?
That unopened door? It seems ajar... But I wonder: what is the quickest way to Her heart?

When Her beauty lies and where the lovers fail is how we came to be. How we are and what we chose still confuses me. But who are they to ask us why, just leave these lovers free.

How is it so that the stars still glow when the sky has fallen apart? How can I dream a big enough dream for both you and me? The regret it seems has flooded the dreams that we used to share. But here at Her grave I must be brave looking into her closed eyes. For this is where it all began, and where Her beauty lies.

I'm trying to stay asleep
As I toss and turn
But there's something on my mind
Another lesson to learn

You want a minute of my time
I want a minute of some sleep
You want to borrow a dime
I want to borrow a dream

I want to get off this train
But it's just in my mind
Doors are shut that used to let me in
But I've got a ticket to ride

I like to think that it's alright now
But I might be wrong
I like say it'll all work out somehow
But I'm too far gone

Reigning king,
Raining blood;
End of times,
Returning floods.

Electric noose,
Diviner's code;
Out with the in and out with the old.

Go back to the start of anything new;
A cycle of dreams that never come true.

I'm stuck with the mess that you've made for me.
I'm stuck with this wreck of filth and greed.
I've tried my best to fix this tired and broken bed,
But as it is, I'll be freer when I'm dead.

Inspiring art,
Inspiring fraud.
Long live the pirates, and death to your god.

The cycle of life spins again,
But where will you be when they open-up your head?

I'm stuck in this nest that you've made for me.
I'm stuck with this wreck of filth and greed.
I've tried my best to fix this tired and broken bed,
But as it is, I'll be freer when I'm dead.

Designing dreams,
Designer drugs;
An illusive freedom plagued with bugs.

What will be left when you die?
Only the carnage; no memories left behind.

I'm stuck in this noose that you've tied for me.
I'm stuck with this wreck of filth and greed.
I've tried my best to fix this tired and broken bed,
But as it is, I'll be freer when I'm dead.