Street Sects Our Lesions
Hung beneath the lurid glare of ruined dreams
Raw conceit dressed in flesh and human heat
Another broken clock well cleaned
A future of self prescribed irrelevance
The color of debt and subjugation
Hard time
A bottomless well of wishes unfulfilled
A semi-erect, neglected pawn
Living in guilt, regret and negligence
Dying face down on a soiled mattress
Same four grey walls
Spinning
Do we seem miserable?
How should we feel?
When their fat hands
Keep reaching out to take what's ours
They want us to like it
Our black hole
Settle in and get sucked down
Celebrate our decline
With closed eyes
Suspicion and fear decide our moral code
While faith in ourselves flickers out
Assuming the worst is always preferable
To giving the benefit of doubt
The devil we know, the devil in our hearts
The lover we hide from all our friends
The secret we keep until our dying hour
The terminal hope that we refuse to let go of...
That there is more
Beyond death
There is love
But the pain just gets worse as you age
You'd better get used to its claim
On your dwindling remainder of days
You'll put a face to the name
Of the phantom that drove you insane
She waits patiently to take you away
But every once in a while
The list of mistakes you've compiled
Seems irrelevant and slips from your mind
And in those moments the weight
Holding you down shifts away
And with the pressure removed you can
Almost see who you thought you would be
Far removed from the body and mind
You reluctantly still occupy
