Back in my dark corners
Back with my hooded thoughts and apathies
Reunited with this dark tunnel
Reminiscing of the hope in your steel horns
For a home they called it
“Bait Al Oud” I remember the day I entered
The day I grew to be wonderful
The day I started running with the other humans
Laughter lightning the air
My home surrounded by lightning as I steek to what I reminisce
The joy of enlightenment visualising your elements
The dread that strikes with every bolt
Where is my home anymore?
Was it in your F A C E or with Every Good Boy who Deserved Fun?
Was it on that levitating platform blind on it’s bow
Or with the people that followed on?
For the musician cradles his instrument
Yet it was you that lifted and stabled me to the heavens
Found that everlasting glow amidst heathens
My only fireplace in that fiery antarctic
The instrument that killed the robot
The paddles that brought his beating heart to life
What mystical tool could a fiddle be?
Only in the hands of a magician like me
A magician you grew in me
The musician to be paraded to this worldly scene
I regretfully say that by bolts may be warped
Yet its still squeaks
So I miss my beating heart
I miss my everlasting glow
I miss being a person
I miss being the violinist
Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 1:35 AM UTC
Back in my dark corners
Back with my hooded thoughts and apathies
Reunited with this dark tunnel
Reminiscing of the hope in your steel horns
For a home they called it
“Bait Al Oud” I remember the day I entered
The day I grew to be wonderful
The day I started running with the other humans
Laughter lightning the air
My home surrounded by lightning as I steek to what I reminisce
The joy of enlightenment visualising your elements
The dread that strikes with every bolt
Where is my home anymore?
Was it in your F A C E or with Every Good Boy who Deserved Fun?
Was it on that levitating platform blind on it’s bow
Or with the people that followed on?
For the musician cradles his instrument
Yet it was you that lifted and stabled me to the heavens
Found that everlasting glow amidst heathens
My only fireplace in that fiery antarctic
The instrument that killed the robot
The paddles that brought his beating heart to life
What mystical tool could a fiddle be?
Only in the hands of a magician like me
A magician you grew in me
The musician to be paraded to this worldly scene
I regretfully say that by bolts may be warped
Yet its still squeaks
So I miss my beating heart
I miss my everlasting glow
I miss being a person
I miss being the violinist
