I am incomplete.
The great desolation.
Filthy desecration.
A heart’s laceration.
I dream of war, I wish for love.
Send a sign from heavens above;
What must I do?
Must I tear off the velvet glove?
Should I just give my heart a shove?
Just push it, onto life’s dance floor,
Act like I’ll live forevermore.
What must I do?
Must I willingly close that door?
Should I not think of love, anymore?
Someone’s missing, I can feel it.
Hearts must love, I can’t conceal it.
I wonder who that someone is;
In this world of state-run showbiz,
Are there any as angry as me?
Listen, hand each other the key,
Hear and understand to be free.
I hope she’s out there, somewhere.
I hope she’s running with her feet bare,
Freely, without a ******* care.
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To be complete is to be alone and be kind to yourself. To be whole, the self and the other must be able to stand on their own...if we find someone like that, then nothing will stand in our way. Where is she? When will I get there?
