Assonance

To my schitzophrenic mind,
You are all the same.
You are him and he is her,
She has more than one name.

Do not try to ever lie,
Or abet in the foolish game
In order to persuade me,
Or explain why you cannot flame.

I can see the forest for the trees.
The winds shakes their mighty lofts.
When the storm is raging,
Dieing things fall off.

What good is any word without a meaning?
Only those with tear-stained egos disagree.
Nobody wants to hear about your sacrifices.
You aren't the only ones who ever bleed.

I jumped on a freight in Monticello,
Didn't know where it was going - you
Had given up on me, baby -
So, I'd given up on you.
A rumbling song as the train rolled on,
I had plenty-a shine to drink-
I was trying anything I could,
So I wouldn't have to think.

Few and far between
Are  the hopes I'll ever have
Of loving someone who's loving me.
I've been taken to pity,
Like surely others have.
All of my dreams
Are few and far between.

I could still remember how
You said you wished that I would leave.   
I'm giving you what you wanted.
Something you can believe.
You won't hear from me, anymore.
I know that to you I'm dead.
I won't ever haunt you,
Like your words that won't leave my head.

Few and far between
Are the hopes I'll ever have,
Of loving someone who's loving me.
I've been taken to pity,
Like surely others have.
All of my dreams,
Are few and far between.

The boxcar slowed in the railway yard.
I jump off - the gravel cut up me knee.
I heard them barking, so I took off a'running.
The dogs were closing in on me.
I made it to the Vieux Carr'e
Before the St. Louis clock struck three.
Tell the children I love them.
Or better, tell 'em not to think of me.

Few and far between
Are the hopes I'll ever have,
Of loving someone who's loving me.
I've been taken to pity,
Like surely others have.
All of my dreams,
Are few and far between.

I'll always wish it was different.
I hope you find somebody new,
Hope you find the kids a daddy
Who's good to them and you.
I hope you know that I really tried
To be the man you needed me to be.
I couldn't keep you from happiness,
You couldn't keep me from being me.

Few and far between
Are the hopes I'll ever have,
Of loving someone who's loving me.
I've been taken to pity,
Like surely others have.
All of my dreams,
Are few and far between.

Once you give yourself to me.
There is no way that you are free.
Mine are eyes that see my prey.
Welcome night, and grieve the day.

I've loved before,
I'll love you more
Than anyone who let you go.

Don't move, don't blink,
Don't cry, don't think -
You can let your free will go.

I love you like Ed.
I love you like Jeffrey.
I love you like John.
I love you like Luka.

Things are going to change for you.
There is nothing you can do.
There is nothing you can say.
You can never get away.

Don't be afraid.
You're in my shade.
I'm never gonna let you go.

You're mine tonight,
And all the nights -
I'm never gonna let you go.

I love you like Ed.
I love you like Jeffrey.
I love you like John.
I love you like Luka.

It rubs the lotion on its skin,
Or else it gets the hose again.
It rubs the lotion on its skin,
Or else it gets the hose again.

It rubs the lotion on its skin,
Or else it gets the hose again.
(Precious)
It rubs the lotion on its skin,
Or else it gets the hose again

I've loved before,
I'll love you more
Than anyone who let you go.

Don't be afraid.
You're in my shade.
I'm never gonna let you go.

I love you like Ed.
I love you like Jeffrey.
I love you like John.
I love you like Luka.

Stiletto heels and a push-up bra,
Hair piled high, bleached and toned and all…
That’s the way you used to shuffle around,
But you ain’t been much since your man went to town.

Who’s that a’ worrin’ bout them wrinkles and lines?
Is that the same broad who fell for all his lines?
Well, since he left you all you do is frown.
No, you ain’t done much since your man went to town.

You could’a picked a man who would’a cherished you
Once upon a time when love was fresh and new,
But you picked the one who was known all around.
Now,  you ain’t known much since your man went to town.

(Interlude)

You could’a picked a man who would’a cherished you
Once upon a time when love was fresh and new,
But you picked the one who was known all around.
Now, you ain’t been much since your man went to town.

Whatcha gonna do when the rage runs high,
When the last tear falls cause the well has dried?
Whatcha gonna do when the sun goes down,
Cause you ain't slept much since your man went to town.

What’cha gotta to do to make it right
Is take your piece out of your purse, it’s a Saturday night.
What’cha gotta do is shoot him down,
‘Cause you cry too much since your man went to town.

In the forest, there grows a flower
That the night loves with starlit showers.
How it blossoms near the tree beneath the moon!
Its petals are a vibrant indentation
Which, with its beauty, betokens the wilderness.

Rapacious and beguiled
Become the seekers of the bloom.
Ravenous are they for its syrupy nector,
And greedy for its savory and intoxicating effect,
Which is delusive to those who would otherwise be able to reckon.
Its glamour incites a yearning
That, not sated, becomes a burning
Which leaves a hollow place where the logic used to be,
And tangles the chords of one's emotions.

Not everything that is enticing is worth the bill of fare,
Even if it thrives freely throughout the land.

So, how have you been?
I know it's been awhile.
I couldn't bare to watch this creature feature -
The selling out for style.
What good is luminescence
If there is nothing to be seen?
I choose to light my words
With colors-
Blues, and reds, and greens
And shower it with glistening golden streams.
So, pardon me as I purge my disappointment.
Where does integrity go
When the walls are burning down?
The lanes are blocked with gratuitous frivolity as meaningless as the strands of fiber drifting in a beam of sunlight-
Particles of bodies that settle on the coffee table only to be wiped away by a tattered cloth.
I cry out for the setting of the sun,
That glowing orb which destroys the mysteries,
And robs the seeker of discovery.
I ask,
Are the shadows being driven into the crevices never to be seen again?
There would be no depth perception without them.
A phantom weight is here,
Then just as suddenly as it came,
has gone.
The color is washed away in all the brightness.
What is left is white,
and not much else to write,
But of the sadness of the ways
it takes the texture from the days.

Thing is,
I am a man of this modern world.
The people of this time are aware we have lost the ways of opulent formality and style.

Thing is,
We are confounded that because people expect us to simply be polite.
It is such an offense that we created a new term to redefine it: political correctness. We don't really worry about the correctness part, but we think a lot about the political part.

Thing is,
Politics and politeness are not synonymous.
Though we could be polite when discussing our politics, we rarely are.
It's no wonder, because we are deeply passionate about the rules that govern us.

Thing is,
We should forget about being politically correct. We should be, instead, politely correct. No matter where we stand, we can treat each other with a niceness that I hope is not irretrievably lost to our more formal past.

Thing is,
We lose a bit of our finess everytime we hold on to bitterness. Let go of fear. What do you have to lose?

At times, your flotsom and jetsom gets to me.
Mostly, I think you're beautiful.

At times, I look at you and want to ask,
"Why are you in a frantic, frothing frenzy?"

At times, I exclaim, "Really? Come on! I mean, come on! How bad is it, really?"...

At times, you storm away.

At times, I wonder if you are worth the aggrivation.

At times, I don't think I deserve you.

I don't believe in Cain and Abel.
It is, like, a fairy tale; a fable.
If the world had no glocks,
We could defend ourselves with rocks.