Keep Believin’
Keep Believin’
She’s not leavin’
But peelin’ away some time

You won’t find the right lines
To reassure this mad mind.
Come face me,
Embrace me I’m wasting,
Please save me.

Keep Believin’
Keep Believin’
She’s not leavin’
But peelin’ away some time

I’m in the dark here,
Crippling cage of fear,
And each bar grows from each tear.
Cold comfort. Salt sunburn.
No respite, No return.

Keep Believin’
Keep Believin’
She’s not leavin’
But peelin’ away some time

Not about me, no.
You? no.
Then we then?
Us.

We know me and you.
Not us.

She sits in the middle of a country barn.
Just clouds come and go.
She weaves a shawl, she weaves a yarn,
Singing only of what the lonely know.

And after dark, when all’s at peace,
She turns and throws the hay around
‘Cause she’s a little fire *******
Nailed to the ground.

Nailed to a promise
Common and deep.
Nailed to a coma
Counting Shivas in her sleep.

A ***** white dress won’t keep her warm.
And feet won’t keep her standing.
Out in the world, all hurried with harm,
She’s tired of all commanding.

A crack in the roof, the rain comes through,
She drinks and laughs at thunder.
Her song will never be heard by you,
With the spell her words are under.

Nailed to a promise
Common and deep.
Nailed to a coma
Counting Shivas in her sleep.

A day will dawn and out she’ll get
To money fame and wonder.
Her breathing soul slips every net
But her body heaves with hunger.

And into the arms of one blind man
She gives her only child
Who’ll grow to find a promise land
Where her mother wept in the wild.

Nailed to a promise
Common and deep.
Nailed to a coma
Counting Shivas in her sleep.

Words. Matter.
Word Matters.
Words Matter.
Word Matter.

Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I,
Why am I sighing?

Old bowls empty of cereal,
Curtains made of see-through material.
Why am I,
Why am I crying?

Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I,
Why am I dying.

Just me and a cube in the corner,
A rooted tube of squalor.
Why am I,
Why am I not flying.

Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I here,
Why am I here lying.

Be all my sins
And all my wishes
Wrapped in one.

Your cold hand
Warms itself on me.
My jaw falls
Into yours.

Nothing opens wide enough.
Hunger hates itself.
Eats away at itself unsatisfied.
Unsatisfiable.

And he’s holdin’ on,
O he’s holdin’on,
And his lies are ready to burn him.

Am I afraid of easy chords.
Silly Rhymes and cheesy words,
To get myself into the loop,
Become a Supergroup?

A smile, a flash, mag and a bang,
You’ll let me into your gang.
Keep me safe with brawny dudes
From semi-conscious semi-nudes.

Please take this
Lord’s Apprentice
And turn him into a God.
Not a Saviour
Of Pleasuremania,
But a Rabid, Raging Dog.

Sublime. Sublime.

Should I use my knife to butter up,
Not cynically cut her up.
Shake the hand of slimy fate,
Embrace the things I love to hate.
Recant in a million interviews
How to wake up and beat the blues,
Become a Lucky Laughing Boy,
A world wide web wind up toy.

Please take this
Lord’s Apprentice
And turn him into a God.
Not a Saviour
Of Pleasuremania,
But a Rabid, Raging Dog.

Sublime. Sublime.