there's blood in my hair

Let me tell you that it’s sad that the glisten of the sunshine

Only shows up when you know it’s time to leave

Because it’s getting dark and you have a curfew.

And the taste of a stale beer

Is the glory of a dawning morning.

Where anything and everything can happen (just get out of that bed).

You get upset when a waver in the force of the pendulum

Shows it’s little head and begins to smile.

Just don’t blame me for your faults babe.

Because I try to smile and show you the shine

Of a greener side of the grass

But you don’t really mind the dreary gray

When the tides have turned you realize

You’ve come up with the low side

But it’s alright, it’s ok.

I’ll hold your hand anyway

Because everyone needs a lover.

And everyone needs that special someone

To make them feel fuzzy late at night.

And I feel I can do that for you.

If you don’t succeed in giving me the flu

You’ll see one day that the warm nights

And sandy beaches

Beat these rocky cold creatures

But only if you let them do what they need to do.

The middle of your stomach

The tattoo above your ass crack

I want to touch it

Surround it with my warmth.

And smell you

Is that too much to ask

tell me about it

As I sit here with semen on my hands

And shame in my voice

And tears in my eyes

I wonder what you’re doing.

And wondering if the children in the fields

Could be as mesmerized as I am

In the beauty of my shame

And the wonder of the game

Of going to work in the morning

Knowing I’ll have a ten hour day

And a massive hangover

To smile at me as I crouch and vomit

In the toilet of the dead

Where we all just sit and moan

Amongst each other

In the sadness of another day of sitting

In a room with no windows

And a day without sun

Talking the talk of a mourning man

Sitting in denial of the morning sun

Deliverance is all I need.

Release me if you feel the feed

Of another aching in the groin

Is this too volatile, too obscene

In its gestures or hostess?

Would you like to taste the peach

Of the still dawn, of the cherries freshly picked?

It doesn’t work that way, I’m sorry.

You have to work for it.

Like the children in the snowy fields of holocaust

Which isn’t a way a child should play

Hug me, dog, and tell me

Why I listen to the vultures retch

And why a musical entity

Such as yourself

Has to dwindle in the twilight sun

Hoping for the next day, but it won’t happen

How much of my heart should I spill

Before you cry out in tears

And give me the deliverance I think I deserve

But maybe it’s not yielded.

Maybe I’m wondering too much

About the tears and the sadness

The beaches are only too sad on the day when you think it won’t come

And I sit here as I look at

The stuff we could have done

If only you raised the money and gave me the voice

Listen to that foghorn

And try to yell over it when I

Sit here and watch the crystalline chassis shatter

In its tiring load of yoke

Folks of yore and times of yours

Listen

It’s quiet! Have you heard that before?

I didn’t think so.

It’s not my way of thinking to listen to elephants

Roam in the blink of the eye.

Just talk to me.

Quit the moaning.

Listen to me, I am talking to you.

Stop ignoring

Looking for answers that aren’t there

It would be so much easier if

WE TALKED

THAT’S ALL I ASK FOR

Listen to the breeches give their silent speeches

In the breeze of the midday

Sushi for lunch

Braised ribs for breakfast

And awkward conversation for dinner

Don’t smash their skulls

Don’t shave my balls.