There was a flawed flavour in years gone dull. Gears worn known only to the lovers
that drove the machine. You drifted or fought the lapses like the confusion of sleep...the Thresher of dreams, swirls of scarecrow watchers and the poignant crows.
I had tried to regret all from my living mind...And would wake startled in the day
from the terrible de ja vue. And eye in the profile of face that almost matched the Lucid merriment that stirred like green fire. A voice aisles away like the face in the mirror I could never percieve past midnight....There are rivers we are baptised in that dont exist anymore...The changeling pockets we search for the brilliance to give light to the chill of dark.
Damned and I still give a damn. Smoking a cigarette almost broken in half while the traffic at the lights roared past...the horrible gleam shone in my eyes from the ravaged chrome....If it made a sound It would be the feedback from a Mic before the rocker prophet hit the crowd with her power.............
that drove the machine. You drifted or fought the lapses like the confusion of sleep...the Thresher of dreams, swirls of scarecrow watchers and the poignant crows.
I had tried to regret all from my living mind...And would wake startled in the day
from the terrible de ja vue. And eye in the profile of face that almost matched the Lucid merriment that stirred like green fire. A voice aisles away like the face in the mirror I could never percieve past midnight....There are rivers we are baptised in that dont exist anymore...The changeling pockets we search for the brilliance to give light to the chill of dark.
Damned and I still give a damn. Smoking a cigarette almost broken in half while the traffic at the lights roared past...the horrible gleam shone in my eyes from the ravaged chrome....If it made a sound It would be the feedback from a Mic before the rocker prophet hit the crowd with her power.............
