Labour all day to make another man's dime.

I find myself on the wrong side o' this paradigm.

Turn on the television, distract me from my career.

There's a newsman speaking, I'm sorry I didn't hear.

There's a politician speaking, I'm sorry, it's not very clear.

There's an army of robots marching, excuse me while I blankly stare.

let me lose my mind to the screen.

jingle your keys before me.

I am bereft  of independent thought,

what our ancestors predicted this was not.

For those on top, this is what they want,

an army of robots bereft of thought.

This melody keep stuck in my mind,
Weaving its way into my memories.
Each note shine for someone else,
When I look back years from now.
The words all break free of their meanings,
Only the music live on with incoherent alcohol.
My life is made of songs,
As I tread
                 My
                       Way
                              Onto
                                     The
                                           Stage
                                                     Of
                                                          Cacoph­ony.

Sometimes I Shazam random songs.
I don't even have to like'em or anything..
I just do it.
Press the big blue button and wait for it to do its job.
I'm always sad when it says it's sorry and returns no result.
"They didn't quite catch that. Try again". Who does?

Sometimes I Shazam random noises on the metro,
Hoping it will pick up the coolest soundtrack of a movie I'm in,
Just before the credits,
When everything goes dark - but not because of a random suicide bomber that hates life and wants revenge or something.
It returns no results and the TV suddenly goes louder in my head and there are 23 victims and we're all posting kittens on Facebook to show that we're not afraid.

Sometimes I Shazam my parents voices
while they're telling me how their day went
and I discover really cool indie artists
that make me listen to their work in a loop.

Once, I Shazamed your heartbeat while you were sleeping.
It returned my name.
Can't remember the album, but it had a nice cover photo.

I never Shazamed my own voice, nor my heartbeat.
I'm too afraid it'll show nothing worth listening to.

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A107BwLLGbE]

Sad when I sing
honest to what's written
Visually seen
Easily misleading

Words from the mouth
doesn't sound so good
Words to your eyes
tell it how it is

Can't help how I feel
It is what it is
If I write it down
it beautifully holds
no judgment
When I sing the words
personally it's driven
To your heart
it cuts deep
Rather you just see the words
my mouth just can't be open

They found the shattered remains of my head and brain,
scattered around my bed in crystals and in grains,
shining red and white like broken candy canes,
Marked it down as evidence, A to Zed and back again.

Bring me back to breathing, today or tomorrow,
twenty hours of dreaming, nightmares of only sorrow.
Inevitable fall from grace, blood splattered on my face,
but a smile still shining when I turn down second place.

Rip out my changing eyes, I choose to go blind.
So many restless sighs, in this white noise mind.
Rip out my babbling tongue, the messages you will not find,
too many songs unsung, in this white noise mind.

You make the signs and I'll take direction,
keep feeding lines, it only increases infection.
I find my teeth to grind, biting down on affection,
that you tangle and bind, leave it in an unmarked section.

Take my burning ears, they listen far too kind.
So many haunting fears, in this white noise mind.
Take my shaking hands, they're locked and intertwined.
Nothing to understand, in this white noise mind.

I only see bright red stop lights,
they line my way, they trace my nights,
they always stay, don't leave my sight.

So take my silent heart, rib cage is too confined.
Rip all organs apart, leave behind a white noise mind.

"Want/need/feel/blah"

But our bodies makes noises when we are not around
Are mistranslated
       misunderstood
       misused
       mistreated
Crack of the arctic knuckles crack

-The whip on the horse to make it go faster
-The egg on the bowl to keep your hands clean
-The dawn that splices through skinny windows crack

Blue
I have noticed our Shadows
How they snap on the sidewalk
Like high-heeled claps and click

Went my back when I stretched
And I remember when this first started
And I asked if I could lean on your shoulder sweet spot
And I did for a while
And resting next to your throat was noisy
And we don't do that anymore
And I don't do that anymore

And
There you go, that familiar sound
(that same old sigh, that ticklish taunt, that numb noise - croaky crack)
You would think "Anymore"
Is a blah word
Because that is what my feet said

Blue
You are not around anymore
Our bodies aren't on speaking terms.