A Midnight LiaisonI'd like to show youMist-wights at midnightDancing to the moon'sReflective serenadeOn a river of glassPlaying cold blue lightAcross your cheek.Breathe dragons' breathPromises down my throatUntil I catch fire.Sparks meet sunrise,Watch me burn.
Fleeing First LightEyes screwed up and bolted tight.Tearing open tissue boxes of childhood hopesThat gathered the dust of outdated dreamsYearByShatteredYear.Fed sedation and truth,They twisted back and bit your handIn the heat of rage.Lasciviousness:An indigo curse that caught you by the mouthAnd slid in beside youBetween sheets of lightningWhen you were cold.Forks that never splitAnd the pent-up energy sings along your heartstrings;Power lines humming a half-remembered melody.Antithesis to words you can't forget,Whispering warnings of wan eyes in moonlight,Broken boys with promises in their fingerprintsAnd the future kiss of subtle sunrise.But you lost the knack of shutting out the dawn.Eyes screwed up and bottled tight,Shake up the nightAndWatchTheFireworks.
Ne Moi Demandez PasEyes wrapped around One, arms around Two;Reciprocation is immediate, and complete.Dress it up as desire;Nails painted Dark DeceptionBut truth overflows the edges of that little black lie -The one with a matching clutchFull of compliments.The highlights in her hairAre clenched between his teeth in a bid for sincerityWhilst lambs and wolves alikeFall to the slaughter of selfishness.A hook's no good without the lineFrom the song she can't take anymorePulled taut by restraint.Narrow the distance and it all falls apart.Cut the cord, reverse.
CindersYou're James Dean in red and white greasepaintAnd boots too big for your arrogance.Don't make me laugh.Pacing the the highwire we drew in the sandYou're a tightrope walker with a limpAnd a cigarette you didn't wantBut still asked for.I traced the ash back to the scene of the crime:Your lipsAnd the hollow caverns where your eyesUsed to resideEven when thumbtacks served as lenses.You're constantly beckoningWith twisted joyOutstretched and laced through my repulsionDrawing me into the blackened furnaceOf the cremation ofThat Day.Fireweed strangles your voiceAnd the lullabies dieCracked and dry in your throat.I'm tangled in the webs I helped you weave,Suffocating under cindersOf my own creationAs you pull me into pools of inkBut I fight it.I'm afraid of the dark.
1984I've got a flick-book of polaroidsOf you on the beachIn your Mother's old sun hatAnd your Father's old shades.You told me that this was ForeverAnd we'd listen in bliss toThis Charming manAndCome Dancing'Till the records crackedOr the needle brokeOr the rapture -Whichever came first.The Smiths and The Kinks were our sunset soundtrack.We sang words we knew too wellAnd we danced in the wavesWith our jeans rolled up.You didn't wear lipstickAnd I didn't have to shaveAnd the world was ours, because our parents were at home.The world's turned over since then.It's shut down for repairs that we know will never comeWhilst the builders demand endless cups of teaThat they leave around in old, chipped mugsTo grow cold, steeped in sugar.Every year the summer fades a littleAnd the colour's steadily draining out of everythingAs I grow old, steeped in stale memory.Every day's predictableAnd I never hitch hike to the beach on a whimWith a beautiful girl
Bang.I never wanted ever after in a nutshell.I didn't ask for eternityPacked away in neat brown parcelsAnd left in little woollen stockingsFor the ghosts of future children.I had no need of your dreamsTo thread on a needle of historyAnd pass along the crisp hemOf hazy hopes of snowy veils.I didn't need your embellishmentOn the embroidery of my existanceAnd I didn't want you to give upListening to your old records.Those melodies of chance and changeWere the backdrop to the sparksThat fled from our hearts and leapt the gapBetween our outstretched fingertips.Spontaneity was your solo dance,And never mine to partake in.You didn't understand, that I didn't want to.I just wanted your eyesFixed right on mine before we kissed:Lock and load.I didn't want your lifeAnd I didn't want your dreams.I just wanted a bullet between my ribsAnd I didn't want it to hurt.
In The Eye Of The BeholderI took each lump of coal he handed meAnd clutched it close.Each treasured incomparably,Flush to my eagerly thumping heartAs if I could force it through the too, too solid fleshTo meet the pound and throbOf electrified muscle beneathOr to scorch an indelible imprint on my soulTo be etched into my dreamsAnd consumed in my subconsciousFor I'd convinced myself that they were diamonds.I could have sworn I saw the glitter of precious gemsFalling unobserved from his lipsAnd I swear I didn't tasteThe blackened filth they were immersed inAs they passed refulgently through my own.At the percussion of a few brutal keysHe dispelled the illusionAnd I beheld cold, harsh reality:My treasure chest was filled with dirt,Not jewels of adoration.Count the callouses his deception forgedOn the broken skin of each handWhen in fearful consciousness and desperationI tried to squeeze each lump of coalBetween panicked palmsIn hopes that perfection would returnBut my own mortal pressure
Call It Quits Or Get A GripYou're talking at me like nothing ever changedBut the real difference is in your eyesWhen they can't even focus on my faceAnd all I can think is how messed up it isThat I only exist when your intoxicationBreaks down the walls between usAnd the blood in your veins is tainted.You're playing the foolAnd I'm trying out a new, ironic laughAt the joke you've becomeBut it twists inside my mouthAnd leaves a bitter taste on my tongueAnd I'm left trying to cough up the soured dregs of Us.I wave begrudgingly And my hand spits:"Grow the hell upOr at least try to make it right"And I'm trying to avert my eyesSo you don't see the searing resentmentPouring out of themAnd trying to reach outTo scorch your precious skin.I'm desperate for you to look as damaged as I do.