Somewhere in here, there's a songI'm staring at the screen wondering where my words are.They're here somewhere - or at least they once were.I wonder if someone could save me from this.Or if I was doomed to fall from the beginning.
Blood TiesThere was once a little girl, the most loved little girl in all existence. One day, someone killed her. And everyone was sad. Everyone was devastated. 'But how could she die,' they all wondered. She was their heart, their soul, and without her, how could they continue?But they did. Because they had to. And they kept on loving her. Until the day they all died.
What they feelLove was falling from the skylike shattered strays of glass
Story Time for the Wicked ThingsYou forget that her life is lost and too much blood has fallenAngels die but love lives onAnd a fairytale always ends
Frustration in Her VoiceShe's held her tongue for so longShe's forgotten what to sayWhen the words seem readyThey get lost along the wayAnd when the letters start to make a soundIt's been long gone, the end of the day
Witch-EyesDeath follows her Witch-Eyes everywhereYet so does life, in her presence of serenityHer eyes, for knowledge, leave your soul curious - yet bareSo that her voice could take away all inner acerbity
Because I love youIf you were the sun, then I'd be the sky So that I may show just how brilliant you areIf you were the clouds, then I'd be the wind So that I could show you off to the worldIf you were the moon, then I'd be the darkness So that you could shine beyond meIf you were the stars, then I'd be the galaxy So that you may have a home to call your own
Kill the Puppeti wonder if she knowsknows?hahahif she does...i'll bet she goes CRAZYhopefully she'll be stronghahahcrazy...if she snaps...we'll have to kill herwe'll have to try to save herto save ourselvesto save hergiggle
The Season's PriceThe winter's frostIs the voice of the lostAnd your life is the only costThe flora of springAs the cruel nymphs singYour soul is what you must bringThe summer engulfs with heatAn impossible featNo angel a sinner will meetThe final leaf of fallThe migration is the last callTo die at the seasonal ball
AloneI look aroundI see peopleYet I'm aloneAlways.
About WallsIn human history,when a wall falls somewhere,then somewhere else,silently is growing another one.
When They ComeWhen They ComeThose men on horses and dragonsThose men of vile heartsThose legions of darknessWhen They ComeTheir armies will marchTheir numbers will swellTheir horns will blazeWhen They ComeThey will pillage and burnThey will enslave and rapeThey will murder and conquerWhen They ComeWe will fightWe will defendWe will die
moontwo sides to me,one shining bright,and one you'll never see.
Morphine DaysSepia world, barnstorming, brainstorming, building up, looking outOf dusty cracked windows to see it all happen, now, again, boldInto the empty yellowed skulls piled up around the old churchOnly on morphine days, though, when we fall out of graceGod, look at the crows, how many pilot their way across the skyObscene noises through the dust, shitting on old rusted machineryAbandoned throughout dried-up, smashed-down stalks of cornHere, to the left, the foundation of a house that no longer existsThere were good days here, once, weren’t there? Maybe not…
Installation PieceIron thorns push through skin, I’m part of an installation pieceFlesh and bone, metal and stone, electronicsWheeled in on a cot, phones for eyesThat never ringBut I see how they look at me; (they’re thinking)How lonely it must be to slowly die aloneThey smile anyway, good at faking itAfter all, it’s their jobOne day the artist will be able to push a button, and I’ll spinMy speaker-mouth will sing about snowOnly one more push allowedAnd I’ll spin into spaceMy last human thought will not be of you, but of us, togetherSitting in the cold morning, coffee and cigarettesBack before they began assembling usOne at a timefor departure
White Ballet ShoesEveryone watchShe dances in the meadowsSweet, white ballet shoes