To pelt the world in ice and graves.
To feel how quiet this part of town feels
When the lites turn on we will not sleep.
We will not dream of anything tonite
We will run like the chinook salmon runs
To flood the world in rivers alive
With pain the pain of peace.
The pain after loss.  
What will come here when the hedges pop
Out like boxing gloves.  
Out of me is songs apollo sang.
Out of him and I we dance with
Wounded leggs.  And prove
How sweet salt tastes on gashes of death.
How sweet to taste imortality when
The cars speed.
What now is a world full of saints.
To fill markets with fresh fish.
And throw the bottles of whiskey
Where they belong.  Where they are warm
Proves how hot my sweater gets when my
Forhead clams up.
My scarf unwraps and we run
With out our cloths down pearl street.
Let there be muse forever on feet and side walk.
We mustnt forget why we break free from
The shakles of eternity.  
The horrible shakles of wild life.
Are finally pure gold.
The softest medal to bend.
And we leave the tempting
Medal behind and choose to
Drink the rain  drops.

Where will this take us now?
Is it us who outruly guiding us as we march dramaticly to the next room?
Will it be us who slams the door shut, or will we be boxed in with some automatic door opening and closing as more and more people come right in? Will we move along romanticing every little acomplishment we do, or will we morbidly and silently stubble on as we are poked and proded to keep moving? Will we finally rest as we see fit, or will we be told we have done enough? We all can easily anwser this in a way most people would generaly. We could stubernly and pridefuly declare that nothing shakles and moves us from one feeding trough to the next. We could so easily be just another rebel with a hollow cause that eagerly awaits to rip open the binds of all those around him, and finally take his spot in the limelight of respect and admirition. We can continue to dream and strive to be the philisophical moses of our generation, and lead our fellow brothers and sisters into a time where we all walk at our own pase, we all slam the doors we ourselves opened, and take any path we wish to travel in a way we feel best suits us. We could all be the one to hold on to the chains, or let the cattle go, but all of us are simply black sheep. So again I ask, who? I do not know, but I non the less seek an anwser.
Where will this take us now?

Almost all hide truth
Almost all
It is the few that are essentially mad
Who expose the private
Compulsively divulge
Who, nakedly unknow
    any and all shakles
No time to receive
    your judgements
They're busy with deep enlightened laughs
    for days
And we dare not overcome our terror to look these souls in the eye
These tidal waves of truths
These callers out of our ****
These unpredictable prophets!
There's no telling where they may point their magnifying glass!

My mind is full of memories I cant remember
Some arent real
Does that make me twice the false dreamer?
Or have I just not found the words to that letter
Have I found the seal?
I hear drums in the air
Keeping a beat I know isn't there
I know its dark in the distance
Yet I rush in like my life is but a hindrance
To something
People laugh at death, saying its conquered
Tell me, why the hell do I cower?
A foolish fear?
See, we smile all day long
Laughing, Singing lifes oh-so-happy song
Pretending we dont hear the warning, bronze gong's warning
I try to be unique, tried to be different
The only difference was the path Im taking to be the same
You cant see them. Only I can, my shakles of shame
Its depressing to think
Because then all the lines begin to link
Forming an answer
One that brings clouds joy..
Lower
My only thought now and ever,
To console
Is His voice
Its slowly seeping through the noise of my choice
Like a powerful river or hurricane
It is shaking and destroying
Yelling, Shouting
'Never Again'
And so as we looked up through the rain
With all our mistook pleasure for pain
It dawned on us
It was going to be a long walk to
A long walk to No Where
Yet we felt it, we were already half way there

-FEELS LIKE NO WHERE

There's a stabbing memory that I hold dear to me
It's that night you tied my hands behind my back and rocked me to sleep
Barely, drunkenly, I awoke to frozen veins with the cold shakles still on my wrists
I sat, and shifted, and turned and tossed
No matter which direction I faced, I smelled your scent in the wind
My trampled fingers retraced my steps in the fields of hair on your chest until you opened your eyes
You turned towards me, pressed your foot against my body hard enough until I slid off the edge of the bed
The shackles pulled me down head first, smashing against the floor and making a crack in the dark hardwood
A clean break
But instead of resuming the usual routine of a graceful departure
I locked your door, dragged the angel out of the closet
and demanded that he tell me why I couldn't have you
He told me to table the conversation