Sunday, February 15, 2009

Magic Bullets

magic bullets and sadistic currents
something we think we know as we think of how we need deterents
keep yourself away from the bad and hope to make yourself good
something that doesn't seem to work but you hoped it would
'cause that's the only way you can think of being good
enabled to disable 'cause that's the only way you've been able
why don't you just sit down at this table and be reasonable
but that's impossible 'cause you're really lost in yourself
doesn't take a blind man to see that you're the only one you need
'cause the things one which you need to feed
are things that just 'cause you to have more greed
when you're never satisfied by the things you'll never really need
if we're just shooting stars in the sky
then why do you keep looking forward to day you'll die?
nothing's ever going to change unless you take the chance and try
instead of looking blankly back up at the sky
animosity is just another form of curiousity
one where you don't know where your understanding is
'cause you have no idea what truth really is
lost in a blur of adrenaline and something else
so take a substance and inject it into your veins
remove the thoughts and actions you view as your chains
but before you know those things are your reins
and what you thought would make you feel better has become a bother
'cause there's no way to escape something that loves you like a brother

Friday, February 6, 2009

hey kiddo


hey kiddo
watchin' you grow up
i see what you're gonna be
just wanna guide you
see you through
make sure you know what to do
can't stop lovin' you
make me smile as i see you change
the ways of the world are wonders with you
happiness is blissful
my heart is kept safe
watchin' and learnin' as you do the things you do
i'm so proud
nothin' better than havin' this chance to be here
got nowhere else to take the place of now
i dunno if i'da said this back a year from now
but now i know
that there isn't anything better than seein' your kid grow
gotta share the love while we're here
my back is strong to carry the load
of parenthood and things for the old
cuz i know you're still young and'll do it for me when i get old
cuz that's just the way the way the stories are told
passed back along to the young from the old
your grace and innocence
are somthin' so genuine and free
it makes me laugh with joy
as i see the peace you carry inside
somethin' nobody should ever have to hide
somethin' i want you to carry with pride
i don't own you
you are your own person
i just want to be your guide
and help you do whatever you decide
cuz all parents gotta do is be their kid's guide

Alcohol

Glass bottles, gently carved from the shifting sands of the earth,
they are lined along the wall, soldiers facing the world, their blank faces staring out at you,
colourful labels and designs so fine,
all lined up in one long line,
sealed and sold, carried clandestinely in a brown paper bag, just under your arm.
But here they sit, still innocent,
nothing wrong to be done here, only looking but for that the price is free.
Try it just once, and you'll try it again,
circles of well-pounding metal encapsulate them from future patrons, waiting
longing, to be opened, their contents hurriedly swallowed in a frenzy,
remains a mystery, since nothing inside them is really all reality.
Lights shine up behind them, the eyes if angels, watching over us as we paw them, eye them, caress them,
hope for one moment that the security cameras, policemen, casheers, and laws will cease to exist so we can scoop them up, cradle them in our arms,
and disappear.
Such desperate longing is the way of the devil,
or so it has been said by many who know what lies locked within those cylinders of glass,
and who would gladly tell you they had no need for it in their lives,
when really all it does is walk them through life in a stupor of fantasy, like a dead dog on a leash.
They would have you believe that, because they cannot believe it themselves;
they do not want to believe it.
crystal glass dances in the sparkle of the lights, giving off an irreplaceable sheen
draws you in
it's reaching desire and playfulness tricking your heart.
It wants you to believe.
It wants you to love.
It wants you to be deceived.
It wants you to surrender.
so many, it grabs
holding onto their shirt collars with more force than a politician on campaign day,
more force than you will ever see displayed by a policeman.
Just that power itself is enough to do some people in, they don't need to stick around and see the rest of what it has to offer them,
the delights, the fears, the shadows and signs.
They may not have seen it already, but they are filled up by it.
They are finished by it.
Let the thunder pound down and the rainfall roll over,
as we sit and we wait for these times to be over,
the smiles of those who sell and the greedy, impatient hands of those who have come to claim their eagerly awaited glass-cloaked prizes, which
on some occaisions, take no time in taking those lives,
for which they have been bought and sold for in front of some eyes.