Oh I miss the kiss of treachery, The shameless kiss of vanity The soft, and the black, and the velvety Up tight, against the side of me And mouth, and eyes, and heart all bleed And run in thickening streams of greed As bit by bit, it starts the need To just let go, my party piece
Oh I miss the kiss of treachery The aching kiss before I feed The stench of a love for a younger meat And the sound that it makes, when it cuts in deep The holding up on bended knees The addiction of duplicities As bit by bit, it starts the need, To just let go, my party piece
But I never said I would stay to the end So I leave you with babies, and hoping for frequency Screaming like this, in the hope of the secrecy Screaming me, over, and over, and over, I leave you with photographs, pictures of trickery Stains on the carpet, and stains on the scenery Songs about happiness, murmured in dreams When we, both of us, knew How the ending would be…
So it’s all come back round to breaking apart again Breaking apart, like I’m made up of glass again Making it up, behind my back again Holding my breath, for the fear of sleep again Holding it up, behind my head again Cut in deep, to the heart of the bone again Round, and round, and round, and it’s coming apart again Over, and over, and over
Now that I know that I’m breaking to pieces I’ll pull out my heart, and I’ll feed it to anyone Crying for sympathy, crocodile cry, for the love of the crowd And the three cheers from everyone Dropping through sky, through the glass of the roof Through the roof of your mouth, through the mouth of your eye Through the eye of the needle, it’s easier for me To get closer to heaven, than ever feel whole again
I never said I would stay to the end I knew I would leave you with babies, and everything Screaming like this, in the hole of sincerity Screaming me, over, and over, and over I leave you with photographs, pictures of trickery Stains on the carpet, and stains on the memory Songs about happiness, murmured in dreams When we, both of us, knew How the end, always is… How the end, always is…
Reflecting off the times we've had. Writing, thinking, dreaming.
Trying to capture thoughts, into a cage of words. But, the emotion
Of the moment isn't always meant for captivity. It's a wild animal,
And it needs space to grow. There is a song for all of these ups, and downs.
If you listen closely, you'll know the meaning is there. The harder times seem
To come in waves. And after years of this kind attack, I think a person
becomes contemplative and creative, or bitter and destructive. God knows,
I have been both. In the end, the things that have haunted and affected you
rarely seem to make sense, and almost never rest in peace.
it's something I have always tried to find.