Thursday, December 10, 2009

Burnt Hair

When your feeling lonesome a sinister grin can kill, now gone i echo through your head,
we heard them stirring in the dead of night, " WE'RE ALIVE, WE'RE ALIVE!" no time to explain all there is to know is "we're alive!"

A new series of a hunter green blur rushes by, "There's someone you've got to meet, she will kill you with love; love love love." So I stand and I breathe, with my lungs, cold, wet air.

Waiting for her, I stood, buried in thoughts of burning hair, draped in flowers, (you must be careful where you lay your head.)

There is such a lot of world to see. SPRING to life, budding conversations with the heartless ones, we would meet up with sad singers, swaying to a rhythm we didn't have to admire.

A new hunger would arise needing
A meal that was memorized


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