Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Diamonds Are A Man's Dead End

The traffic lights are colorized.
They tell you when or not to drive.
The children are not looking. The officer is booking
Booking up his handouts and his fines.

So let it go now. Let it show now that you gave up the fight.
On the way out if you have doubts, speed through the red light,
And take the wheel for the first time in your life.

The plastic ring must be tied.
It's been broken several times.
Mistaken for the others, replaced it with another,
But you never noticed my disguise.

So let it go now. Let it show now that you gave up the fight.
On the way out if you have doubts, speed through the red light,
And take the wheel for the first time in your life.

Your face is getting older. My feet are getting colder.
I'd rather warm them up and run, and dodge bullets from dad's gun.
My heart's more like a boulder with feelings I must smolder
Without a flame or sun or the love from someone.

So let me go now. Let it show now that you gave up the fight.
On the way out if you have doubts, speed through the red light,
And take the wheel for the first time in your life.

- afm

These Buildings Won't Be Here Forever

Maybe the Spring will come tomorrow and bring the rain.
Maybe I'll learn to drown my sorrow in the puddles again.
They say clouds don't look as gray when standing from faraway,
But they do. They do.

If a cast-iron lung is breathing water in
Then my little heart has sunk down to the bottom again.
They say sunken hearts resurface, they can't die herein,
But they do. They do.

All the busy streets and hurried feet are running on ice.
The bidders in the coffee shop are naming their price.
No, they don't think twice about it if they lose,
But they do. They do.

In the Fall the leaves will fall
As the trees stand up tall.
In the coming years they'll become souvenirs to the earth.
They'll disappear. You'll forget their worth.

They're now the ground that holds the trees up.
They're now the ground upon which you and I walk on.

Maybe the Spring will come tomorrow and bring the rain.
Maybe I'll learn to drown my sorrow in the puddles again.
They say clouds don't look as gray when you scare them away.
Paint 'em blue. Paint 'em blue.

- afm

Saturday, September 18, 2010

The Hand That Feeds You

I threw nickles at his cage to better my aim, but all the bars were closed.
I don't suppose I've shown you. I don't suppose I know you.
I gave it my best shot, as I watched him slowly decompose.
I don't suppose I've tried you. I don't suppose you know

Bad love. Better luck next time.
Though I wasn't trying, I fed the lion.
I thought he was a friend of mine.

All the garbage you throw over the fence to his nose may as well be my next feast.
I don't suppose you meant to. I don't suppose I lent you
A self-serving of slop from the local bucket shop to help tame the beast.
I don't suppose you disposed of your clothes after walking the streets, little piggy.

Bad love. Better luck next time.
Though I wasn't trying, I fed the lion.
I thought he was a friend of mine.

Bad love. Better luck next time.
Though I wasn't trying, I ate the lion.
No, he ain't no friend of mine.

Hah hah hah
That's the wrenching sound of bars twisting.
Are you listening as the drenched cloth pulls you in?
How can something so soft be the material that wins?
I must be used to using something that never thins.

- afm

Monday, September 6, 2010

The One-Eyed Man

I was trying to warn you
Of the masquerade before you.
That sweet smell of perfume
Is yet another scented costume
Trying so hard to consume
The bodies that fill up the room.
Swallow them down
Till there's no one around to assume
That it was me, that we could be
The target and the thief.
Can you believe that what you see
Is suspending disbelief?
Well, if love is considered blind,
Then your eyes are fading white.

I was a boundless traveler.
I was a body snatcher
Carrying all my treasure,
Yet caring for no one after
I had fulfilled my pleasure.
My lust will surpass your stature,
So swallow me down
Till there's no one around to measure
That it was me, that we could be
The target and the thief.
Can you believe that what you see
Is suspending disbelief?
Well, if love is considered blind,
Then your eyes are fading white.

Past the corridor on the second floor
Beneath the window
You'll find two sets of keys:
One is for you and one is for me,
But none of them are for keeps
If love is blind.

Your eyes have faded white.

- afm