Start for the dart of the mart Quarts of coolant guzzled down A meal A break a heart that is no longer beating Now the clouds are opened And I see there was nothing there at all Mind matters in the eyes prying for a cry The little girl inside this one is no longer there She has gone away to another place I am sick I am tired I am a broken record atop a spinning player Each hour that passes through this still place makes it seem as if nothing is real As if the haze in mine eyes is the fog on a morning knolls break Faster then any bullet we will die Quicker then any hummingbird love will dissipate into a memory only captured In torn and worn photographs Kept by people that need something to talk about at dinner At Christmas At Thanksgiving At times when the truth is so close We all must shut it away To go on is to prolong the fat fact that we winners are winding down a rocky Rembrandt like Painting of puke and bile and smiles which do not bring either happiness Or heartbreak Who is this person inside this mind that will not let me be? Who put this brain inside of me? Who allowed for these trials of touch and go to commence? And who will be at the finish line when I am too exhausted to go on? I am neither here nor there nor awake or asleep I wander from the middle to the coast only to start wandering again To be elevated from above the Earth To be floating along Is to see the world in the haze of which I speak which is Heaven Where bugle playing baby angels sip on lemon cloud swirl drinks Where death no longer lays its heavy hand upon any head For He is there as well We are all welcome to the corner market where behind door number two Is a running river lined with no ***** pebbles But broken fragments of dragon's gold To take to this place is to lose your face for to drift one must pay Yes One must always pay To play