A mining town is the opposite of what we are.
We are sunshine and fake laughter
and fake fun
and sun and rain
But we hold true to the fact that we love a good joke.
We love a good relationship.
A good drink at a decent bar.

What I like is a nice kiss.
One that last more than 5 seconds.
That type often means a lot.
or it means nothing at all.

I like that 6 year trial run.
I like when it burned.
I like how the pictures burned with it.
I feel so much about it.
What do you feel?

Do you feel that this town could be taught to mine?
Do you feel we could mine and mine deep  enough to find what was buried deep under?
Is it worth a further catastrophe?
Would it be worth the walls crumbling and you and I would be captured in what was?
What felt like a longer than usual kiss?
The kind that I like,
the kind that once meant something?

In some parts of your amiable self deprivation,
you find my interpretation of us.

Take a couple of drinks
make sure they count
and enamor yourself with the thought of freedom

trust me you'll be fine
and ill miss work
and sleep more than id like

remember the sleep
and feverish talk of a future memory

make sure you catch your breath when you're done
my ties to your happiness were eager and sincere.

I hope you know
I hope you noticed
and I hope you don't fall apart
like the fluid motion of bones against pavement.

I'm too tired and too weak
From carrying all these worries
About things that may go wrong
Or things that never happened at all
I only have the will to take steady steps
Because my conquered failures hold me up

I'm too tired and too weak
I've lost my will to even breathe
Due to all the useless talking I do
And the inhaling of nothing I retain
I only now have the will to exhale
All the sweet moans I've swallowed whole

I'm too tired and too weak
To find the will to live the mundane
And excite flames from ashes as before
Or feed from the dull light in the dark
I only now continue this tired heartbeat
Because someone out there is feeding it life

I promise you that we will make love
On a bed full of philosophy books
So that the depth of our hunger
Matches the depth of our thinking

Every press of my nail upon your flesh
Will have you question your existence
You'll feel more alive with every thought
Then you will understand Rene Descartes

Our smoldering bodies radiating pleasure
Will have you disregard the material world
This passion will posses the highest reality
Then you'll understand Plato's forms

Amidst my guidance toward your ******
You will hold values and aspirations close
And form your most perfect self with me
Then you'll understand Friedrich Nietzsche

On this bed full of marvelous thoughts
We will lay tangled exhausted overjoyed
For our love our lust and our everything
Will have the immensity of philosophy itself

You forget there's a sky above
Birds don't chirp trees are few
Gone is the hamlet that shaped your love
For a blade of grass cries the morn dew.

Mesh of wires runs over the sky
Air is thick with the reek of petrol
Scare you the trucks heavily passing by
Dazedly you search for the village of the ole.

Here was the home your soul's green abode
Where winter was cold March sprightly Spring
Your feet ran the soil not dusty metaled road
Dreams soared high on boundless wide wing.

Now all around are the townsfolk on race
Ruthless pace crushing ole hamlet's peace
But so is fated by the wheels of progress
That shows the gain more than all that you miss.