The Eye of The Storm
Running dry.
Miss getting high.
Miss living that life.
Surfing the edge of night.
Skating what’s wrong and right.
Normal life makes the man die,
Before he’s dead.
A Slow death.
Waiting for something to happen.
That’s already happened.
All that’s left now,
To chase that golden cow,
And hope she pays out,
For those final years,
When you get to live again.
But by then, it’s too late,
You’ve lost the taste.
The young man is dead.
His memories in your head.
Here comes the end of night.
Some call it the eternal light,
Truly, truly getting high.
Have you just been trying to get back to it all along?
Where you came from?
Was getting high a moment in that eye,
Of the storm,
Being born.
Waiting to transform.
Back to dust.
Back to it all.
Free from bondage.
A million pieces of light.
Goodnight.
And then back in.
For more of the same.
This time we’ll really live this life.
Insane.
Unsound.
Merry go round.
Fallen to Fly
I can be both arsonist and artist.
Tearing it up, and peace within love.
The mix can be nauseating.
A Soul constantly debating.
Sometimes whiskey comes in,
Like a blanket over it, warm.
Relief from the storm.
Our father, who dwells in us,
Confusion be thy name.
On Earth, as it is in hell.
To dwell is to dance to his spell.
The greatest lesson I ever learnt
I’m not left,
I’m not right.
I’m not a class,
I’m not an income,
I’m not wrong,
I’m not right.
Sometimes I’m all those things.
Sometimes I’m nothing.
But I’m always, me.
And if I know who that is,
I’m truly,
free.
Forevermore
I reach for your hand,
Through the blackest of nights.
Your voice I seek,
A lamb on the run.
Can you hear me now?
Am I lost, forevermore.
No key in the door.
Breeze on my skin.
Blood on the floor.
All I’ve got is your voice,
In my head.
Lost,
Lost,
Lost,
Forevermore.
High Road
A sweet tooth will kill you.
So I’m blowing out my brains,
With straight sugar to the veins.
Death, is a left, past gluttony.
I want everything to fuck me.
From the inside out.
Exploding star.
A blackcurrant liquorice too far.
But it was fun,
Wasn’t it?
If life needed glucose,
Death will be a bowl full E numbers wrapped in cotton candy cunts.
Heaven, hell, I embrace you.
There’s peace in the ether.
A way to your soul.
Silence in the night.
A golden slumber,
Repose the long sleep.
Middle Ground
Poor people dream bigger.
Rich people sin quicker.
Somewhere in the middle it’s just boring and tame.
Full of rules and todddaly awesome, ’kay.