Posts tagged "stains on the carpet"
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Notes: 3 / 1 year ago
Disintegration
By The Cure
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…________________________________________________________________
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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. Although, it's something I have always tried to find.
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