He descended lost and lonely into this world
fast did he fall, like cold winter's rain
his body broken and his mind shattered
yet he tried to keep himself contained

He felt like a ghost by a warm fire place
but, none of the living could see his form
he was a stranger, a stranger of passion kind
still in love with his sweet crying moon

Solitude and longing had become his good bed fellows
each night in his empty house they would paint nightmares
and when morning was claimed by the screaming of sunlight
they would pack up their paint brushes and go into hiding

His joy was the shimmer of a new dawn sun
it gave deliverance from the pain of loneliness
yet sweet justice came with those wonder nights
for the stranger and his love the crying moon

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

The smell that pulls me in,
And holds me closer,
To that familiar place,
And comfort.

Is it his scent that pulls me in,
Or his arms that holds me closer,
To that familiar scent,
And pheromones.

The smell that pulls me in for more,
And holds me closer to him,
To that familiar feeling,
And sensation.

Is it his scent that pulls me in for more,
Or my desire to be held closer,
To long for that familiar happiness,
And pleasure.

Please, stop talkin' 'bout yourself that way
as if you have a smaller brain
No one's buying that but you

You care too much about your good grades
and all the things your teachers say
Don't you know those thing will never last?

Educated idiot
In the desk right next to me
Educated idiot
Writing on the board where you teach
Educated idiot
Your words, they sound so sweet
From the pulpit where you preach once or twice a week,
once or twice a week

Well I don't want to know how much you get paid
or hear the ***** details 'bout the last time you got laid
Sometimes you really make me sick

You act like you have somethin' important to say
but then you treat people like animals
no, only a fool will listen to a word of it

Educated idiot
In the desk right next to me
Educated idiot
Writing on the board where you teach
Educated idiot
Your words, they sound so sweet
From the pulpit where you preach once or twice a week,
once or twice a week

Oh, how do drugs and cigarettes
help us to achieve
the greatness locked inside of us
that no one else sees
We're all wandering aroung
on nameless roads
the destination
no one knows

Lookin for a chance to bathe in the see

Please, don't be

The Educated idiot
In the desk right next to me
Educated idiot
Writing on the board where you teach
Educated idiot
Your words, they sound so sweet
From the pulpit where you preach once or twice a week,
once or twice a week