Thursday, August 26, 2010


Flying death to astound you
Leaping in rivers of moss
Understanding your addiction
But letting it ride
High on the everything
Taking whatever you can
Consequences are for later
Someone else’s problem anyway
Digging the lights of the city
Confused about what are the stars
Raising a ruckus over kismet
You need the break anyway
There’s little to be said for the others
What would you if even you could
There’s a mouthful of regret in the bushes
But none in you heart or your hand
She’s sitting right there next to you
So you reason it must be okay
But she’s a mirror to your soul
And your soul is another county now
The driving of bushels of candy
Into the beatings you took and you gave
You lie awake wondering
But there’s nothing left to think
You’ve used up all your lives
An you’re not even a cat

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