i have travelled so very far
and i am still so very high
it seems the substance has successfully put me  into the sky
i was once a bunny too but now the time has grown my hare
used to laugh at all the people now the people stop and stare
come seeth blessed child the first air of Israel
Yet the second born of ashes from the depth of firey hell
Harp the angels in golushes
demons dressed up for the ball
what a fancy sight to see is all of you who hear the call
battlements at the ready,the flute of mighty war,tis the sound of mother nature when both Gods are off to war
oh but i am but a soldier, oh but i am but a boulder
upon the shoulders of a giant i shall travel into colder

How potent the poison is passion
A War in good fashion
The fog in the fields crash like waves that are massive
A passive polite the old man with the pipe but stills draws out his knife in the evening gun fight then explodes into flowers and casket
The light is too bright just to bask in
And tonight may be right for the captain
But i my dear friends are not fit for ammends i am neither the start or the finish
All must once end  like the rope and the pen and the pipe i just finished beginning

Come ever more
Every ferret and *****
Every devilshly demon  that luck does adore
With the mist in the midst and the wind like a fist
There no blood in my wrist so alas i must sit
And be patient
Oranment
All these rooms and non vacant
So man

come quickly
come quickly
you silly old dog
when they thought of the name,
they'd probably had thought of a creature like you-well then right on the dot
for a pig with a stick in his eye and a stye for a leg could have begged his way faster to freedom
and found more to eat in a day then you eat in a week-but you stay?
And i wonder and ponder by ponds full of water collecting my thoughts in a vase now discolored
what marvelous mischief might happen if beast were no sanction and all things with thoughts were judged solely on actions
morality then would weigh heavy with sanction and perhaps no man dines at the right of the lord
only a creature, deemed fit to absorb his observance
for now, it is begging to get very hot in this furnace

Who's that staring through my window walls, with eyes as old as time
the clock has not yet moved and the wind outside has died
no breath for me to find nor the strength to check the time
unless the minute hand is lying theirs a chance i may have died
I wish this all a dream but the eyes i see dont lie, they have told me with their watching that all men do really cry
yet in vain is all my wishing but perhaps this is delusion of a sedimentary man with his mind ripe for losing
Come at me then red devil, I shout within my mind yet the tension I had hoped for was delayed and rather dry
no ravishingly velvet flame encircled this such room, nor were the furniture and ottoman  thrown like an old shoe
marvelous the time in which a demon throwns your home and his only one intent is to stare right through your soul
to that i bid goodnight to you, to do as you wish, regardless of the manner I am nothing more then fish. to be shot out of a barrel for a fellow such as this
If you do deem it fit that I wake another morning all i ask is that the clocks all please return to working order

Just below the cellar you can hear a gentle thumping
bumping in the midnight calling out to ask for something

Thumping in the hallways and the rooms of little girls
in the washroom and the kitchen just the thought makes my blood curl

It all must be of nothing I have told me many nights
only louder in the darkness till my mind has no such plight

Pleading with kitchen and panels of the wall, of the stairs that lead to darkness right above the cellar floor
Pleading for the bumping, to cease throughout the night
yet my pleading is politeness that responds with terrid freight

The thumping has grown louder, yet no one is stil awake
only I to fight this battle with the king for heavens sake

Spears and bones have knashed and yet a pulse can still be heard
I shall die alone in sadness, never knowing what was burned

Yet amid a morning sunset, with the calling of the crow
all the thumping and the bumping had disbanded from the thrown

In the midst of my confusion , I lay awake pondering illusions
Was it all a gentle dream
or must it all mean something more

Just above the cellar you can hear a gentle bumping
thumping in the midnight calling out to ask for something

whisper weeping tiger all your fears inside my ear
while I sit here and just wonder if the clouds eventually clear
hush now mighty giant all you do is flood the seas,  your tears the size of titans and your sobs the summer breeze
they shall listen to no reason, hearts as cold as mother ice
be there flooding in the mountains then they all shall turn to christ
heave the call of dying lepers that they fall upon deaf ears
still her heart is gently thumping through the tyranny and fear
on her back she rests the earth and though her legs as old as time such a strength her ancient wisdom
twiddled down to such sublime
a mere mistake of good intentions  beware the cross to your salvation
the path that's far less chosen, rightfully so for damnation
all that's good shall perish slowly,  leaving nothing more then is
perhaps you've thought this place of devils, I shall say we are what is