I'll leave my resolution as she leaves her
tight black dress apon the floor.
In passion of a ***** tinted kiss.
we'll forget the times to follow if only
in are trainwreck splendor.

Two souls thirsting for contact.
Tearing at one another like children unwrapping
gifts from under the tree.

Plessure is a dream togather were caught willing
victims of a lost night and a years end.

As tommorows starts a year's slow decline.
In her eyes I need only a glimpse to recall.
The madness that was in the streets we
stole a nights most simple plessure.

A private partys afterglow is such a bittersweet
tressure we'll recall togather.
In the velvet of a embrace more than skin did connect.
Within thoose eye's the embers of that private
party for a breif moment does reflect.

As traces of reallity plague the return of the following
day.
One kiss tasting of devilish remorse I caught a whisper of love
But in a shallow moments thought just watched it
walk away.

Traces of day in sunsets past.
Life's destroy the  painting once bright
has faded at last.

She clings to a illusion for it's better than nothing she's known
so very  well.
Sweetest are the confessions in the shadows we do tell.

Forward in movement still somewhere im left behind.
Goodbye in thought the highway calls yet the chapter is
far from done.
Summers of reflection love as a child when gentle was thought
endless was the innocent fun.

Im not the man that should see the finish happy fairy tails
bleed my dreams.
Glimmers of greatness burn fast in failure  it seems.

Broken souls cast south  tonight we share moment
I have to erase.
Confide in the emptyness collected hopes in a distant angels face.

Fools are many but a loser's path is best walked alone.
A empty court vacant is the kingdom inwhich I hold the throne.
Lesser the man who's never known the start.
Gone are my words.
As I speak empty  mind from a jaded heart.

A liar a ******* a friend and enemy all rolled into one.
A fool with a wreckless sense.
A dreamer who's life rest ready to be void at the end of a gun.

The losser who's past speaks of no future clear.
The uncertin madman who seldom is ever truely here.
The man's lust for the road.
A still frame dessire cast in a black and white play.

To many fights to little scars.
To many reasons.
To less bars.

The grey in a was young  head.
My time is past half  is already dead.
The bitter truths  and well ment lies.
The wolfs heart under a devils   disguise.

Stories unwritten and some yern never to be told.
A winters bite in a glimmer of passion.
My place  gone from the illusion  ive loved so well.


The mirror reflects all you'll never see.
The mirror lies to all.
But never hides it's fatal truth from me.

I created it cause i wanted  people to have a place to be.
To not know the emptyness that ive known most my life
I tried to tell jokes to fill the silence.

The bottle has been a constant friend to me.
And the darker side of life I know well.
Its time for a return.

No matter how ****** up we may be this is a family to me.
The Pub my virtual home thetime to clink the glasses has
returned will you?

It's always in winter im left facing the truth's of my past.
The bar my home the whiskey a old friend  who still
remembers enough to forget.

Alone with thoose faces i care to share nothing with I can just exist none care  or worry the Christmas lights bring a comic tragedy to my blured vision of what never can be.

Often it's found me here but tonight i no longer care.
for how many times can the heart bleed?
Till its but a scar of memory.

Answers are for the dreamers who belive there's right to
change the wrong.
A splendid place of ******* that omly holds truth at the bottom of my glass  last call lingers like a lovers goodbye.

My time long since past im turning to nothing only to except my
failures and curse the road that brought me to such a stage of misery
and who gives a ****.

The fools I pitty yet hope they find it although I know it's end.
Her word's hollow as my soul.
Pouring fire to replace passion.
Every fighter knows when it's gone.

But in dim lit smoke cast rooms I find my home.
And haunt this space asking nothing  just
to fade in thought.

Some need pain to exist other need the challenge to drive.
Every drink poured  burns a constant reminder im still alive.
After ive left into the nights air im cast alone.
wandering in a blurred haze to anywhere will I ever truely belong?

Breakup's and breakdown's were collected by it's fire.
Old glory and wished apon lies we spoke in that chidish
feeling I'll fondly forever recall.

The scenery changed as the friends like actors in a play.
I bottle up my emotions and keep then in drunken bliss to forever stay.
In a trance brothers shared the words without
a single one spoken between them.

The emotions flowed with the drinks stories were spoken
only to die with the mornings light.
Thoose who fell we spoke of like ghosts never to return.
Ships apon the water we dare not view to long.

Are passion and wants her lips that feeling we
knew had long since died.
Tears hidden within every drop.

Poured courage made bounds of emotions blood.
Reflecting in dim lit thought of bright passions past.
But like a once full bottle loves and cold nights never last.

We understand the roads taken brothers often do.
The old preach from it's fire.
The youth roll there eyes of what they never knew.

Passed around the bottles passion takes a journey into emptyness
Speaking of long nights women who've long since gone.
We laugh in are failures drunk with the
memories shared.
We all slowley fade.

I think at early age i saw the truth and its harsh light.
The dreamer was a sweet idea  the  reallity  a cold *******.
The poets to weak often found comfort in there vices.

The  washed up often found a finale page in there brains being splattred  across the room.
And the wise often found themselves wanting foolish
things.

Love it was a word often used and seldom felt.
It was that  fix down  Church street   it was a score for a moment a regret at best.

Love i hate it's existance it was the mirage that I saw in a cool nights fog
It called me once and killed me slowley one bad choice at a time.

Im not saying the young couple in passion is a time bomb  waitting to
turn into a  disaster at any second.
Im just saying it wouldnt catch me in it's aftermath.

The washed up thought it made them immortal.
The dreamers thought of it as air.
And the wise were to busy avoiding it at all cost's.

But the broken saw it as paper sailboat  caught in a storms drain.
I remeber her well.