My fingernails scratch bright
red through your skin
Dig, dig, digging around
in your organs
Need to find that sore, swollen
power house;
Shelter of let downs and searches for
lifts out
I'll break every rib in this cage to set you free
Would you look at what my hands of red have
gotten in?
Assume the sun rises orange over
each mountain
The hungry showdown makes me feel small
as a field mouse
Spent the day with the clouds just to pray,
guess I'm devout
I'd rather be walking through doors than
jumping out windows
It doesn't work this way but I'd
break every rib to set you free
Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 6:50 PM UTC
My fingernails scratch bright
red through your skin
Dig, dig, digging around
in your organs
Need to find that sore, swollen
power house;
Shelter of let downs and searches for
lifts out
I'll break every rib in this cage to set you free
Would you look at what my hands of red have
gotten in?
Assume the sun rises orange over
each mountain
The hungry showdown makes me feel small
as a field mouse
Spent the day with the clouds just to pray,
guess I'm devout
I'd rather be walking through doors than
jumping out windows
It doesn't work this way but I'd
break every rib to set you free
This poem has been turned to a song..
http://soundcloud.com/treeziie/power-mouse
