Sometimes when God closes a door
You're stuck in the room

Conseptuluze
Conception dies
Those heavy hips and light brown thighs
Those bright red lips and sky blue eyes
Have made him look up to the skies
And then he stops and there he cries
The truth gives way as down he lies
He just gave up his enterprise

The grown man is a boy who tries
To love the girl no compromise
Who loves him first without disguise
And lays with him till sun does rise

But then she left him for a prize
He lays in grass and waves at flys
He sinks still lower from his highs
His girl is gone he couldn’t arise
She left him to his own demise

And he’s alone
So far from home
Not one to care
No one to share
He’s still alone
No place his home

So he lays on the grass and he cries his eyes dry
And he wipes off his tears
And he gives up the years
And he stands in the wind and he walks to the door
Opens it up and he looks in the house
Closes the doors now he’s stuck in the room
Sits on the floor as he lays in the tomb

And his fists start beatin
And his heart starts bleedin
Then the room falls apart as he falls on his head
And his tomb opens up its the dawn of the dead
The energy is breakin in
There is no time for takin in
The moment is medicinal
The opening old windowsill
The life he has is underway
There’s no more time to sit and pray
The beast is risin from the grave
Forgetting of the girl who gave
Forgiving all her precious ways
The old man's reached his end of days
The new man he has just begun
And so stands against the flame
the song of him is still unsung

Unsung

And there he goes
And there he goes
And he goes
And then he’s gone
And then he’s gone
And he’s gone
And he’s not wrong
And he’s not wrong
And he’s wrong

Rip the saintly halo
From above your hallowed brow
To see how it obscured
A deep satanic vow
As through your skull are sprouted
                   Two twisted bony horns:
A rose no more disgracing
A beautiful stem of thorns

This loop of unending unity
for the moment I put it on,
            never has it left the
digit of my palm..

mostly due to the time of
our unity I have gained many
               a pound, and my
sticks became sausage fingers.

though it has bent it has never
       broken like our unity.
We mould to the changing of time..

And I still love you more than when
                     I put this halo of
love upon my palm....

Pristine prisons,
probably the prettiest you've ever seen
from your 72-inch flatscreen;
if walls could talk, I hear you'd be in a pretty tight spot
but I'd rather not
shoot my shot with your skeleton crew,
because I've got a little angel, she just fell to earth too soon;
her halo choked her in her mother's womb, so she knows
pristine prisons,
probably the prettiest you've ever seen
windows painted lavender and walls bathed in evergreen;
peach-round face & woodsmoke eyes,
I want to comfort her with soft-spilled lies
but she already knows the horrid truth,
so I'll take her to a dim-lit roof
and talk about the moon.

his heart flowed from his fingertips
as he stood in front of the choir.
when the applause started,
an angel only visible to her
crowned him with a halo.
her heart saw the purest,
whitest light as it ascended.
every cell in her body knew
one truth in that moment -
this was the start of her first love.

She knew the world,
He knew the words,
She shaped the blue skies,
He played with the meter in fives.

She brought in the aura,
He pictured in the flora,
She glittered in the halo,
He wandered in an abyss so low.

She was well versed in art,
He talked in silence with himself in part,
She was ready to know him and walk with him toe to toe,
Walking all alone all along, he was ready to find himself too.