marți, 8 iunie 2010

my bones which burn

my mind turns 'round and 'round
to a hideous carnival
fighting for a breath of tainted air
and pray that today never ends
for tomorrow would be just the same...
my bones which burn

i would rather forget
how to walk, how to write, how to chant
the smell of the air after it rains
the carress of the wind in the palm of my hand
than have this pain i can't explain
my bones which burn...

make me into a tree
fire me up into dirty-red charcoal
when i try to run into nothingness
when i need arms around me
holding on so tight i'd learn to ignore again
my bones which burn...

is it just a nightmare or was there ever a time
to really smile
every single new morning
waking up to give grace for the sunshine
in someone's eyes who had learned to drown
my bones which burn...

i have all this music now inside my soul
but it means nothing
i can't play it out loud
not if i could lay down and sleep on the paveway
not when i'd just scream in terror at the ache of
my bones which burn...

wish there was a universal switch
to tune down the swirling images
that i don't want to remember
the mirror and the pillow
the water i pull myself under
my bones which burn...

i want to give my heart away again
whole and perfect as a shiny new toy
yet who would fill out the holes
drilled deep by the years of beating
the need to break out in tears every once in a while and
my bones which burn...

i hold my own hand and embrace my body shivering
i wake alongside my corpse as i frown in the light
of those kissing on my tomb
searching again for what was never there
for the new ultimate cure no one will ever find
another lie to inject into my bones which burn

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