The American Dream needs feeding
It's bones are starting to show
Everyone cawing ME ME ME
Empty calories of greed
It's hunger is never satisfied
Feet calloused and bleeding
Spinning that hamster wheel
Gold plated bars on cages full of ****
No where to go but dead
And we got to get there first
No need for a fancy hearse
Just add the bodies to the pile
The stench is a mile high
The price we have to pay to touch the sky
Blood is cheaper than oil
So we have to keep breeding
For that American DreaM(achine) needs feeding

Dreamless sleep of eternity
Sleepless tears of love
Bloodless heart keeps beating
Boneless ghost keeps haunting
Forever's end repeating...

I wish I lived at home,
rather than
whatever-it-is that here-is
because this whatever-it-is
feels strange and smells like
I am not here, and I should not be
anywhere but home, where-it-smells-like
my soul is welcome, and my heart
will be held gently in someone else's' hands.

It is not too late
I can back away now
I will back away now
I must.
is it too late?

let's be alone together
I don't want to force myself to be with anyone
and deal with the awkward silences
get-to know-you questions, smiles and laughter
efforts to agree and manipulate
I just want to be alone
with someone else there
and I want it to be simple

we are silly, silly beings
clinging to our silly, silly things

she tastes of roses and sweet nectar
and I can't get her scent off of me.
her sweat is sweet beads rolling down her
majestic body and I simply cannot
stop needing the music that
pours from her soul
throughout the night
when we are together.

I see fire burning where I know I can put her out with one touch.

A month ago I sat in class
in a New England School for boys
Now, I'm in a bomber group
Adjusting to the noise

I made plans for Harvard
A doctor, I would be
Then my life would turn
In a way I didn't see

The war was on in Europe
We saw in the press
But, 18 days before Christmas
we were pulled into the mess

Future plans were put aside
Our country we'd support
We'd forget all of our future thoughts
We'd join, though not for sport

We signed up down in Boston
Young men flyers, soldiers all
Preparing for a battle
Many would not live till fall

We thought not of our future
Our present, all we had
Many dead by Christmas next
The thought is truly sad

You do not what you want to
But, what needs to be done
You go from boy to man so fast
You've barely walked...now run

Think back on those who made it
Remember who did not
Young men they are forever
They deserve a longer thought

The air is pure and holy
It is scattered with young souls
Boys, now men who went to war
And put aside their goals