Shame on MeShe swings on the pieces of my broken heart.The feeling is bliss when I tore her's apart.Remember when I exiled your long lost love?I shot him and his soul ascended like a dove?I remember the salty tears you cried.They hit the ground like bombes which eroded when they dried.You didn't think I'd find out, did you?Funny how you thought I never knew.But I knew.. how didn't you?It was the only thing that I could possibly do.You sat there as I walked away,The night slowly faded into the day.I left one in the chamber just for you,I figured a loving husband would let you choose what to do.You stare down right into the blackness.You face the fear, the regret, the sadness.At the last minute you look back at me.You pulled the trigger, and said "sorry."I say aloud "Shame on me if you fool me once, shame on me if you fool me twice
shame on me. Shame on me."
Black DecemberAnd there he laysIn a blue coffin case.To be full of nothing.Exist without living.What do you feel.Nothing at all.What can you see?Nothing at all.What can you hear?Nothing at all.What can you taste?Nothing at all.Where will you go?Nowhere at all.And down you goIn a blue coffin case.A black december.My thoughts can't erase.When the wind blewI knew that it wasn't youLaying in that cold bed.Just a body, cold and dead.
Brice the Doghttp://youtu.be/lnElh_MbUSwCheck the above link.I wrote all of it.Lyrics, guitar, and vocals are all me.Lemme know what you think!
The DreamBefore you leave,I just wish you knew.My heart's on my sleave,I wish I could go with you.when you hit earth again,tell me about your trip.tell me how you've been,before love losened it's grip.As you walk on the clouds,and float away on your dream,before you sell your souls,remember that nothing is what it seems.I'll hold the moon for you.I'll hold the moon for you.
Spiritual EnlightenmentV1. Things aren't what they seem anymore.Still trying to put it together.Looking for what could have been so much more,In the eyes of a lover.Chorus: Ghosts in my eyes, and dreams in my head.Ghosts in my eyes, while I dream of the dead.Ghosts in my eyes , and I dream of the dead.V2. When I woke up from my sleep, I was a bit frightened.Her face in my mind like I'd been spiritually enlightened.She spoke to me in a cold, ghastly voice.She told me that I have a choice.Bridge: It's all in my head. x5
The Cold, Hard TruthToday I learned something about you.I learned that you have feelings, too.You tell lies, and you tell truths.You have him, but I want you..
i. my little pigeon,you walk the line betweenreality and imagination, strayinginto the unknown and bringingback little pieces of wonderwith you when you return.ink drips from your fingers asyou smear words onto pages,breathing life into stiff piecesof paper torn from your notebook.coffee may be where i foundmy home, but it's tea that runsthrough my veins. i could braidyour hair for hours, letting the silkystrands run through my fingers likeyour words run through my heart.we can walk into the sunrise together,holding hands and laughing. i will sharethe sunsets i hold in my tiny palms,and you can share the stories you lockin your heart. i want to travel the worldwith you, pointing out the little quirksthat make up people and stumblinginto adventures behind little shopsand backwards alley ways. i hopeyou remember your handkerchief,or we might end up flying there andback again in the blink of an eye.
Call it Fallthere's a soft kiss ofmedium-rare sunlightin the barelybroken bonesof this October dayjust warm enoughto think that summermay have stasheda day or twoin our pocketsbut each tomorrowreminds us morethat it didn'tthat this autumnknows little lifeoutside its barrelof choking appleswhere yellowjacketsbore, conquer and,still sweet,curl into a coolslow sleepof frozen dreamspaused in dawn'sblanket of frostthese short daysunder long nightscount down toa new beginningof the enda dark springof bright blushand angerthat will burn this forestnot down, but nakedand we call it Fallas if there's a misstepor slip involvedas if we make a choiceor skip the chanceto not veerfrom daylight's trailonto these our printsso well worn and re-worninto timetwo human sets enterand where it goesfrom theregets lost in thecrunch of leavesbeneath usour moon stays lowgiving trees new lifeand wind carries crieslike song, for miles
decodei pinedunequivocallyfor the quillin soft shadows:the swallow's smileand toothyflightthe curveof treebowsrotting-freshto planta buduphigh andhemlocking-mebetween a dreamand sleepand sleepand sleepyou musn't worryI have foundan ink-sourcethus:a quibblingcreek -my soul!It willblossomlike poppieson the pagebefore me,myfingertipthe pen
Empty But Alivebreathing you in, octoberi taste the numbing agentseven on the very surfaceof your conspiracy, thisprepping of the patientthis unworking of the earthsealing it as-ishardening the sitesof future graves, forced shallownot harvesting, just weakeningarranging late-year stacksof blurry panic, while disablingthe defensive responseso much decline to wagebefore the winter killsoctober knows i'm a foolfor the dark underbreathof its dead open airthe howl of the breezethrough its night fields, emptybut alive, and so very not emptyits rhythm of silencebetween barks and callsstalls my heart mid-beati used to pray for its enginesto restart, before it hit groundbut now i realizethat there is no floorto this dreamand no bottom to this fall
ten.why don't we sit underthe hangmans noose;contemplate lifefor a bit.watch the crows hustle aroundthesefrayed ropes, and listen to thewind rustle dirt'sleaves.there's a cool breeze comingthrough,almost too cold, its...bitter.so let's just walk away and seek thewarmthunder these charcoalfeathers.[its a comforting feeling to have life, anddeath in your control. ]
people don't listen (you've just too much to say)we fell asleep in hotel rooms filled with stars, the leaky faucet in the kitchenette dripping galaxiesinto oblivion. they might have faded by the morning, butthey were beautiful while theylasted, drifting inand out of f o c u s with the ebbingof a neon-light tide -it reminded me that beautyfades with ageno matter how brightyou may shine . (black holes are so cliche, but they're some kind of nothing made from something and that's beautiful enough for me)
A thought...Death is an unforgiving parasite which I do not ever want to meet, or greet ever in my lifetime. The reality is...I have to. And it breaks me in two and shatters the depths of my heart.