You cling to me.
You cling to me.
You cling,
And you cling,
And you cling.
LINGER...

You cling to me.
And I to you,
And I to you,
And I to you.

But at the opening credits of another white dawn,
I must bow down to the system,
RISE,
And curtsey to conformity.

It's the heaviest regret of my day; leaving you.
IRON.
Before the day has even begun; leaving you.
LEAD.

And when I do,
I forget the slopes and hills of your face.
How they rise and fall,
As we disremember a perfect dream.
I step out into the clutch of bitter airs,
Eyes down, catching the ice's gleam.
The glazed pavement plummets,
So I glide to follow it's dip,
But my hazed movement's done its
Best to make me slip...

And this is something now.
Heaven, heaven sent.
This is what this is now.
Formality's been bent.
And so I'll try to always
Let you know just what I meant.
But before I spill my guts out,
These butterflies must ferment.

A step back

Languish,
Drink,
Lament.

For my words come best post all of this,
And I sense a hovering dent.
(Confusion incoming)
To dent this sacred framework
Of fearlessness, excitement and neccessity.
Thumping intensity.
Then you comfort me like a child.

And the needle has been threaded,
But I've always feared the sewing.
I'm such a child in your arms,
Oh where is this going?
No, no, no.
No way of knowing.

SCRUB...
Paint chips off the wall,
The bath has run too deep,
But I welcome the confusion
That in my mind you keep.
For everybody knows
That what you sow, you reap.
So when I see that smile again,
Tangled brain-vines will weep.

I'm thinking....
I'm thinking too much.
I'm drinking too much.
Parallel lines: the worst and the best.
And it's the heaviest regret of my day; leaving you.
Protest,
Protest.


December 2010