Death is a delightful hiding place for weary men.

if i only knew what regret meant

yes, you're just listening to my boring rants

Monday, September 14, 2009

forgotten

i'm stuck in a place so dark, you could hardly see
a manner of matter that splits with the words i speak
and as the rain drips acidic questions around me
i block out the sight of the powers that be

duck away into the darkness, times up
i wind up in a rusted world with eyes shut
so tight that it blurs into the world of pretend
and the eyes ease open and it's dark again

listen to the sound, dizzy from the ups and downs
and nauseated by the polluted melodies all around
watching the wheels of cars that pass
i look past to the light and the long shadows it casts

a window grows and captures the eye
it cries out a yellow light as it passes me by
and a young shadowy figure sits infront of this box
inside a building of rocks with antennas on top

now nothing can stop in this land of the pain
the same rules not knowing they were part of the game
and while the insides change, the box stays the same
and the figure inside could bear anybody's name

the memories i keep are from a time like then
i put them on paper so i could come back to them
someday i'm hoping to close my eyes and pretend
that this crumpled up paper can be perfect again

i'm here at this "podium" talking, this ceremonial offering
dedicated to urban dysfunctional offspring
city governments are eternally napping
trapped in greedy covenants, causing urban collapsing

no preparation is made, minimum wage, limited aid
living in a tenement cage where rent isnt paid
tragedy within a parade
the darkness overspreads like a permanent plague

i am the forgotten

astrocow
03:33

Monday, September 07, 2009

true feelings growing old

the wind blows a tree, heavy with the snow
it falls down to the frozen earth below
a man walks on by, air hanging high
with the frozen wind, his life has blown on dry

dew of life falls upon the ground
lovers and youths standing all around
the man looks at Youth right in the eye
feeling old, he finds a spot to cry

the sun beats down on the shore
waves rolling in off the ocean floor
the man walks down to where the water breaks
like the sands of time, his life it'll soon take

the leaves on the trees turning green to gold
showing to the world they're getting old
the man walks under the dying tree
in it he sees himself and feels ever so empty

the wind blows a tree heavy with the snow
it falls down on the crowd below
they all look upon a man who's at peace
with the winds of time, his soul will be released

underneath the track of my spinning wheel
between me and I, in this place where i feel
holding a flame near the edge where i stand
seeing colours screaming from my burning hand

nailing my head to a flagpole and letting it fly
seeing my ideals displayed for everyone to pry
crushing my heart under words of stone
watching truth pouring from this which that i own

asking me where and how i hold on to this dream
throwing lighted matches into this pit of gasoline
feeling the warmth from this place that resides
getting closer to a path where no one lies, but I

astrocow
07:03