I mute my surroundings so I can hear myself thinking
about the birds and the bees and the beautiful things
Believing is seeing but we all wake up dreaming
so who is to say we shouldn't just believe it ...anyway?
The mistress of misery tried taking happiness from me,
but I fought her fearlessly holding on to the could-be's
forever and for always we roam airport hallways
leaving specks of what once was on carpets of used runways
now this is the next chapter,
so lets see what they're after?
were you intending to stir the *** of disaster?
or did you want the blood to pour out a little faster?
lift her hand you puppet master
pull the string that turns tears to laughter..
ashes became,
the fire that blazed
and burned the whole city
with regrets and mistakes
*Sing to me on my dying day,
a beautiful song of childish play*
Oct 30, 2011
Oct 30, 2011 at 8:26 AM UTC
I mute my surroundings so I can hear myself thinking
about the birds and the bees and the beautiful things
Believing is seeing but we all wake up dreaming
so who is to say we shouldn't just believe it ...anyway?
The mistress of misery tried taking happiness from me,
but I fought her fearlessly holding on to the could-be's
forever and for always we roam airport hallways
leaving specks of what once was on carpets of used runways
now this is the next chapter,
so lets see what they're after?
were you intending to stir the *** of disaster?
or did you want the blood to pour out a little faster?
lift her hand you puppet master
pull the string that turns tears to laughter..
ashes became,
the fire that blazed
and burned the whole city
with regrets and mistakes
*Sing to me on my dying day,
a beautiful song of childish play*
Request permission to use this poem