The smoke that holds a voice
Of small and lifeless sounds
Sketched beyond the edge
A heart of lost and found

Erase your hidden face
Blurred and out of focus
And let in the toxic sky
Embrace torn and lifeless lips

Shaken, held and open
Pale and scorched with hope
To breathe a single time
The art of how to ‘cope’

It’s a funny sort of thing
the way you breathe inside your head.
The sharp roads that pave your mind;
there are waterfalls that hide being your eyes
waiting to cry out loud.
Just hold your head a little longer
and wait a little farther
before it shatters your smile.

Let’s see the world run backwards,
where the trees grow toward your hands
and you wish the air was softer.
The flickering light
would burn out bright.
The cracks would fade
into the mirror
and the holes would fill with sand.

Let’s see the flow be broken,
why should we see control.
Owning what we believe
and holding on to what we see.
Just feel why your eyes blind you,
the burning rubber in your mind.

Breathe beauty behind one less passion
Freeze the new excuses
Painful and exhale.
EXPECT OBESSION
How emotions double art
And let it free!
PAUSE
So distracted
And so – perfect
Everything you need.

Where do we leave from here?
Once the signs point towards the sky
and the wax dries on our eyes.
will we finally see the light
that opens up the world?

The path has been depleted
without its natural sounds.
Lost without a trace of home;
belonging where you stand
and living while you can.