Let me sit quietly in this house,
The early hours as the sun rises, casting shadows to show duality and warmth to show us love.
A bright blue sky to clear our minds.
But soon I'll be on my way.
Jumping between pages,
A shattered memory and a broken rib,
We burnt out the place my mind used to be,
Left ash piles and Polaroid pictures with little tiny people saved in an instant.
A memory of a meloncholy mood drifting up from my mind as my heart beats faster,
This anxiety is turning my Polaroids into matchsticks, my gut into a butterfly cage.
An ant in the headlights of a car, doesn't think what make and model the car is,
Yet I see my fears, my ghosts and my life and I can't help but be dragged on stage with them,
Analyse them and pester them, taking notes like it's my job, and writing until the voices in my head might finally be quiet.
I guess if I can't quiet my head, I'll leave it instead.
Say goodbye to this cigarette wasteland, with cherries and bongs.
This pyscotic diagnostic of a funny story I once heard, blended together until the lumps come out.
Well he's never been able to deal with himself, his mind, his monsters.. so you'll have to excuse him as he dives into concrete swimming pools, and tries to jump over houses to no avail.
Well he sees his floors in other people's houses, and feels anxious and scared.
You see, we don't like what's wrong with us, so we hide it and lock it away.
But if no one can see them how can they help?
You tell your children they're beautiful,
But it's only because they're your creation.
This is a problem with the world, we never tell anyone how beautiful they are,
So we all just sit like rhinos on mountain tops,
Defensive positions, walls up, guns loaded.
Until that one Disney butterfly flutters by, distracting some as they're drawn to it as it floats down stream and saves them from themselves.