With one eye in the gutter,
and one on the goal,
I keep on shooting,
just trying to be whole.
trying to be normal,
just like them.
To be a good human being,
respected by men.
But it’s hard.
blinkered on that path,
forgetting to laugh,
forgetting to love.
forgetting the essence of all that I am.
I’m not them.
I’m not him and I’m not her.
I’m a lost little boy,
Trying to fake like a man.
Just like you.
But we’ll keep pushing along,
because that’s what men do.
The Dream is Yours
All roads lead to death.
Travel whichever one makes you happy, and fuck the rest.
It‘s all a lesson, without a test.
Don’t let the pressure of the world,
Rob you of your last breath.
Another‘s journey can never be yours,
Just do your best.
Soon comes the end,
One blink and it’s over.
Is it all but a dream?
Living to wake up.
The Eye of The Storm
Running dry.
Miss getting high.
Miss living that life.
Surfing the edge of night.
Skating what’s wrong and right.
Normal life makes the man die,
Before he’s dead.
A Slow death.
Waiting for something to happen.
That’s already happened.
All that’s left now,
To chase that golden cow,
And hope she pays out,
For those final years,
When you get to live again.
But by then, it’s too late,
You’ve lost the taste.
The young man is dead.
His memories in your head.
Here comes the end of night.
Some call it the eternal light,
Truly, truly getting high.
Have you just been trying to get back to it all along?
Where you came from?
Was getting high a moment in that eye,
Of the storm,
Being born.
Waiting to transform.
Back to dust.
Back to it all.
Free from bondage.
A million pieces of light.
Goodnight.
And then back in.
For more of the same.
This time we’ll really live this life.
Insane.
Unsound.
Merry go round.
Fallen to Fly
I can be both arsonist and artist.
Tearing it up, and peace within love.
The mix can be nauseating.
A Soul constantly debating.
Sometimes whiskey comes in,
Like a blanket over it, warm.
Relief from the storm.
Our father, who dwells in us,
Confusion be thy name.
On Earth, as it is in hell.
To dwell is to dance to his spell.
High Road
A sweet tooth will kill you.
So I’m blowing out my brains,
With straight sugar to the veins.
Death, is a left, past gluttony.
I want everything to fuck me.
From the inside out.
Exploding star.
A blackcurrant liquorice too far.
But it was fun,
Wasn’t it?
If life needed glucose,
Death will be a bowl full E numbers wrapped in cotton candy cunts.
Heaven, hell, I embrace you.