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 the deadly game
ignore the consequences
shun the inconsistencies.
the words, words, words
they swirl,
and we slip, we slip, we slip
--its 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
this hail falls down
on a 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
--bruised orange
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 1:37 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 the deadly game
ignore the consequences
shun the inconsistencies.
the words, words, words
they swirl,
and we slip, we slip, we slip
--its 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
this hail falls down
on a 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
--bruised orange
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