'It'll get bad reviews, we should scrap the project before it breaks the budget.'
We sit and talk art and beauty, love and fear,
my heart cracking open, and you,
rushing in.
We sit and talk,
play at this deadly game,
ignore the consequences,
shun the inconsistencies. The
words,
words,
words,
they swirl,
and
we slip,
we slip,
we slip.
It's a real cliffhanger.
Hearts on sleeves,
music weaves,
stories come to light.
Secrets, oozing out between
the well crafted lines of
our carefully scripted plot.
We sit and talk circles around
the herds of white elephants
that come to watch the show.
Mocking us, they laugh
as we tiptoe through fields of daffodils
under dark skies with rainbows.
(Scene change now)
In dark of night
I squeeze out hope
from my heart.
God ****** hope
twists up and knifes
me in the side,
leaves me bleeding on the floor.
And you, fool you are,
rush to my aid.
If you're saving me,
who's saving you?
You, with your secret decoder ring
from your box of caramel corn, cracking
my heart, you peel my layers.
Your questions run deep but your feet will run faster, and
I'll fall,
I'll fall,
I'll fall.
Gravity's a real drag;
I've felt it's pull before.
Me, with my third eye see the pan and play.
This show will end leaving us all sitting in our seats
wanting another thirty minutes,
a tidier ending.
This ain't Disney.
We'll feel like we've been
ripped,
ripped,
ripped.
No refunds here,
go file your complaint with the man upstairs.
The audience stands, turns to go.
White elephants know there's no silver lining,
no *** of gold.
They threw popcorn at the screen, but you didn't notice.
I always hated white elephants;
I thought you did too.
Who invited them to the show?
We step outside,
no curtain call,
no applause.
Hail falls down on this sunny blue day.
Afraid to touch you, but
I want to catch you in my mouth.
Would you please just go away,
before I end up with lumps
on my head,
in my throat?
My eyes blinded by the sun,
the hail,
this ill fated show.
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 4:12 AM UTC
'It'll get bad reviews, we should scrap the project before it breaks the budget.'
We sit and talk art and beauty, love and fear,
my heart cracking open, and you,
rushing in.
We sit and talk,
play at this deadly game,
ignore the consequences,
shun the inconsistencies. The
words,
words,
words,
they swirl,
and
we slip,
we slip,
we slip.
It's a real cliffhanger.
Hearts on sleeves,
music weaves,
stories come to light.
Secrets, oozing out between
the well crafted lines of
our carefully scripted plot.
We sit and talk circles around
the herds of white elephants
that come to watch the show.
Mocking us, they laugh
as we tiptoe through fields of daffodils
under dark skies with rainbows.
(Scene change now)
In dark of night
I squeeze out hope
from my heart.
God ****** hope
twists up and knifes
me in the side,
leaves me bleeding on the floor.
And you, fool you are,
rush to my aid.
If you're saving me,
who's saving you?
You, with your secret decoder ring
from your box of caramel corn, cracking
my heart, you peel my layers.
Your questions run deep but your feet will run faster, and
I'll fall,
I'll fall,
I'll fall.
Gravity's a real drag;
I've felt it's pull before.
Me, with my third eye see the pan and play.
This show will end leaving us all sitting in our seats
wanting another thirty minutes,
a tidier ending.
This ain't Disney.
We'll feel like we've been
ripped,
ripped,
ripped.
No refunds here,
go file your complaint with the man upstairs.
The audience stands, turns to go.
White elephants know there's no silver lining,
no *** of gold.
They threw popcorn at the screen, but you didn't notice.
I always hated white elephants;
I thought you did too.
Who invited them to the show?
We step outside,
no curtain call,
no applause.
Hail falls down on this sunny blue day.
Afraid to touch you, but
I want to catch you in my mouth.
Would you please just go away,
before I end up with lumps
on my head,
in my throat?
My eyes blinded by the sun,
the hail,
this ill fated show.
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