hurting today from the pain caused yesterday

Do you remember
What we talked about then?
Lit by the thin moon and under the stars
They praised us like pedestrians praise oncoming cars
And we were inside, solving crimes
When we dug our graves that night

And I miss your touch like tomorrow's sun
Misses the moon and the horizon
It's a shame that it's the truth
A hundred bottles down are you still the sleuth
You were back then? With your tongue made of poison

Curious curious little boy
When will you learn, little girls are no toy

Curious curious little girl,
When will you know, virginity's no pearl

Curious curious little politician
When will you learn my future is missin

Curious curious little consumer
When will you realize the world's getting poorer

Curious curious human beings
Stop with the blindness and start with the seeing...
When will you decide to stop the drilling, and the billing, and the mass grave sight killing? And the shaming and the blaming and the sleeping child maming?
The spying and the crying and the nature is dying.
And realize the truth that the cage is in your mind
Just go back to the wild
With the rivers trees and the vines
The oceans and mountains
Canyons and pines
Forget all the poisons
Remember respect.
The feeling of bodies that don't suffer neglect.
Breathe in the fresh air
Inhabit the earth
rekindle the spirit
You were given at birth

Curious curious,

Its simply you see.
Let's not let this end us.
Let's choose to be free

These lungs are stones lying heavy in my chest
Breathing in the nicotine toys you smoke so slyly from your chapped lips
While under your arm in the church parking lot
You pray to who you call God
As the skeletons fall from your cigarette
Begging that we stay bound until the hour's death

  Is it the scars you hide under your stubble that attracts me to your sin?
  Or the ghosts in your pores that smell of tobacco and mint?
They loved you so much, am I one of them now?
You could have done better but I'm afraid that I can't
     You're the only type I believe keeps my sane
     You're the only type that breaks my brittle brain
How many more cracks do I dare sustain?

  But all of you leave scars under my stubble
  And the ghosts in my pores smell like tobacco and mint
I'm three packs in and I'm more alone than ever
Maybe tomorrow will bring a better "forever."

I'm screaming out your name from rooftops at 4am. I think I'll be waiting forever for these dreams to end.