Today is just tomorrow's yesterday,
then-again nothing ever changes anyway.

It's still as it always will be,
but now you're here with me.

So burrow away my little tick, and
make yourself at home in my brain.

The dreadfully-real nothings can
love my blood once again.

Living the dream,
yet I'm still chased
by the nightmares.

Its face white purity of a colour
Hiding sin,
Cloaking hatred
Supressing that within,
With a smile of red smudged lips
The bright coloured clothes,
A flower adorned this kaleidoscope
Of colour, fragrant stench
To conceal,    
To cloak
To distort  
That which hid behind, delved beneath,
Laughter heard, insanities last gasp,
That clown of a thousand smiles,
Which one would you see as his flowers
Pollen greats your senses, a last breath
He chuckles,
He giggles,
He sheds a tear
So many have fallen, smudged is the white,
Bleeding black beneath white clouded skin.
He has tricks of the trade,
Balloons he blows up,
"Make something"
So he twists and turns
Rubber squeaks, form to air surrounds
"A balloon gun"
As he laughs his soon to be last,
Can you say "BANG"
"Bang"
As he points his balloon as the gentlemen laughs
Can you say "POP"
With an exhale of word,
A head does "POP"
Bits of red rubber covers the crowd,
"Any one want to see another trick"
He laughs out his insane laugh,
Who laughing now people as he lets out his deranged  *laugh.

I was a cuckoo in a lovely little
House, I went around in circles
Again and again
"Co-ck-ooooooooo"
"C-ockoo-ooooooo"
"Cockoooooooo­o"
That's what I always said,
Do you know how sad I get,
I want to jump,
I want to fly
But the only thing I do is
Cuckoo,
Cuckoo,
Cuckoo,
How time flies, but I will never know.
I am stuck in the little house,
Nailed,
Stuck,
Prisoner
To time, tempted every hour
To leave this place, my wings do flap
But when the clock ends its
****,
****,
****,
I am ruthlessly dragged in to this prison
To once again be driven around
Every moment of my existence
Is but a moment a hand turning
On a clock, Tick, Tock
I am  cuckoo, I show
You the moments passing of time,
But I will release my call every
Time its needed, I'm a cuckoo after all, a
Singer of moments that pass every hour in time.