It could be clarity,
If I opened my eyes

Counterfeit contortions,
And your twisted edge,
Smooth and cold,
Black, dead confessions,
Promise like they mean it,
Full of choking,
And hands pulling,
Breaking,
Over-board and sick,
On overdoses of white,
And narcotic senses,
Tasting of dust and screams,
Lost and angered,
Thrown in all directions,
Like you could hide,
Your distortions

Just like paper,
We'll fold and tear,
Change colours and fade,
But we'll always be,
Paper

Dripping in that red mercury,
Tasting of rust,
Your bitter lungs,
Still and deadly,
And silent

Burn the roses,
The laughter, the smiles,
Up in flames,
With all my hope,
Our hope,
Light up the memories,
All of the 'we's, the 'us's,
Burn BURN BURN,
Up in smoke,
Everything,
Every part of us,
Every kind of sweetness,
All the clocks,
And cogs and smoldering, dying things,
That used to be love,
Licked up with your fire tongue,
Burn

I'll be falling again,
Dripping,
Tripping on gravity,
And cold footsteps,
High on wonder-lust,
Lost amongst white salvation,
With my black rubble hands,
Pawing at heaven

Singing;
                           softly drifting

                  la
                                 ­ la                            la
        la                     ­                  la

Rolling and churning the notes

              round
       and          and                  round
              round      ­            and        and
                                      ­          round

On your tongue;
                                       racing
                   chasing
beautiful


Singing;
                           softly drifting

                  la
                                 ­ la                            la
        la                     ­                  la

                                                            ­                ...In a dream