Wednesday, September 23, 2009


So it'll be a lunch break, he says
It's nearly over now
I won't scream about it when it falls
We'll meet while he's in town, he says
As if it wasn't obvious
and I won't run until they come

Violence after violence
and violent hearbeats pounding inside the car
their eyes shining for glory, their ears an open scar
watch me if I'm going too far

A year ago, tea was much cheaper
Inspiration much deeper and family members outnumbered
all of this and that, parties scared
just lead to this clutter
But not today, not during this lunch break

Love after love,
screaming out in the streets, desperately
urban animals longing for it, killing for it
waiting for the day to be
as I'm walking into this bar
watch me if I'm going too far

Observers can be dangerous
or dangerously threatened, most of the time
but taking notes on the changes over a year
should be just as innocent as a lullaby
Singing stories not to crying babies or children,
but to souls left to die
unfed of news for a year
with no one to observe in the meanwhile

Drink after drink,
and stories still unsung
while patterns are found and faces are turned
This place stinks recognition, crowded with all kinds of flood
while I smoke distracted, inhaling deeply a fallen star

This smorgasbord full of vodka and blood
watch me if I'm going too far