ReprieveDrifting smoke, smoldering homes. These violent flames are towering. Searing flesh of sleeping partners. Awaiting closure and departure.Reprieve
Laying strewn in the gravel. The vultures have eaten me. Abandoned skeletal remains. Decomposing God and faith.
Torrential rain, distributed evenly. Predetermined life isn't conscious. Surveillance of strategic planning. We owe him, a debt of gratitude.
Predatory birds catching living prey. A scathing indictment of absolutism. Potentate principality and dominion. I can't stare into your eyes, anymor
Central Standard TimeI'm confused by the correlation. Laughter and grief in matrimony. I'm in disbelief, a state of sorrow. Glimpse of an idea turned human.Central Standard Time
Chorus: Turn the clock back. 3:00 A.M., August 15th, 2009. Central Standard Time. Your life before our eyes. Wasting away / passing by. You've been skinned alive. Drained of your bloodline. Lying in state for family. Recollecting last seconds. Tears are comfort tonight.
The frequent traveler sees a celestial horizon. A point of departure moves Heaven and Earth. Transcendence and immanence interpenetra
Turn Into StoneA visual rendering of poverty. My loss of nerves is habitual. I’ve tasted perception again. I’m unearthing your way of life. Squandering redirected blood. This is predicated upon reality. Chorus: In a state of fossilization! I’m turned into stone. Human remains are tell-tale artifacts. Buried alongside; corporate pipelines. It reflects, cognition and condition. A colossal mistake that we all make. She is cast out by deportation. I’ve taken upon myself to help. As I vacillate, the truth sinks in.Turn Into Stone
Above ReproachI've ensured that you've endured pain that you can't elude or determine. The result of your incessant musings is that they’re publicly abandoned due to no sense and no structure. I would rather evolve into an enlightened human being than pray for a sanctuary to rest in peace. I don’t hear any steps forward, toward your vision that is buried in lucid trenches. Set the standard high so that it can defend against idleness. When you're above reproach, you refuse to change your ways. My natural tendency to worship pessimism isn’t what is troubling me. I just hate when the depression calms these many voices. I tend to forget, the impAbove Reproach
Take Me Drunk, I'm Home
Joy
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