I've been on the edge of my seat
Waiting for a chance to meet
Another bad one.
Wake me up from out of this sleep.
Give to me some secrets to keep.
Start with a bad one.
Where is love and raising hell;
Spitting fire in a cheap motel;
Angry friction in the eyes
Of desire, and fearless rides
On wheels of fury in the night
That burn the roads and holds me tight?
Cover me with intoxication
Like a sheath of skin over blade.
Where is greed and desperation,
And running from them to each other?
I remember when the living was real,
And the passion was always a thrill,
Anchored in the pounding hearts
That were bound to top the charts.
Blowing wilder than the wind,
I'm never going home again.
I've been on the edge of my seat,
Waiting for a chance to meet
Another bad one.
Wake me up from out of this sleep.
Give to me some secrets to keep.
Start with a bad one.
Is love born out of some kind of need?
Is the feeling still somewhere in me?
I need to be a bullet fired
Entangled in what has transpired,
And wispered like a scream on fire.
Climbing night time rage and wire,
Two for one and sacred pyer.
Acid venom and supplier.
Running like a theif in the night
Hiding in the briar from the light.
I've been on the edge of my seat,
Waiting for a chance to meet
Another bad one.
Wake me up from out of this sleep.
Give to me some secrets to keep.
Start with a bad one.
...And it's fast.
...And it's strong.
...And it's done.
...And it's gone.
I wrote this just this early morning and in one sitting. One question, When I shared it to my facebook account, the word "hell" was automatically redacted - why? Fix it. I edit and censor myself enough as it is.
There is a variation of two cadences in this one that don't always fall into a sequencial format. As my writing style is kind of free-flowing; musical and organic, it just turns out that way.
I haven't set it to music exactly, but as I hear it in my head, it is definately going to be a song.
I'm into bad ones.