don't you realize you're resting in the open palm
of an old, empty man with bitter, bloody hands
screaming, you want to know how it feels to be beat to death?
just live your innocent little life between deep, deep breaths.
while you are watching carefully the flashing screen
from the old, broken seats on the mezzanine
i will fire my last remaining shell
so that it brings down the tired, wooden stairwell
come on out, come out
wherever you are
my friend
this is the spot
where you began
and where you'll end
the lake distorts
and stretches
all your features
breathing out
its dark, cold-blooded creatures
through alleyways and over metal fences - they're spilling
with bloody knees and tired, dying senses - overflowing
i can hear you
living your life
it gets louder and louder all the time
go on, twist it
until it's dry
squeeze it with your hands
until it dies
your eyes cling to the corner of the room
while outside, the night rings a perfect boom
the clock displays the racing, taunting time
and you're awake in every corner of your mind
the sirens
scream
was i mean?
the 8-o-clock kids are leavin
and i believe in
a solution
to end this selfish breathin
the sirens
scream
above mean
uniformed machines
off in the distance I
see with the bloody eye
over flowing kids
(only the fine print of the scenery)