Vigilantes Of Love Sitting
Sitting under my blue sky of deception
The colors run every time it rains
Wrought
Brought forth
Fashioned from inception
My own hands, and I take all the blame
As the light goes out
Darkness with her bated breath
Waits out on periphery of the campfire
Decadence and violence
We do best
Burned out
Face-down in the gutter
Lowest point I could find to ground zero
Roll back
Alibis and skies are crushing
Do we paint with much too black a brush?
Rock and roll
What is it anymore?
Youth profound or profane to endure passion in the back
seat or at the foot of the cross
Going, going, gone
And finally lost
