Neon lights and ebon string,
Rock and roll makes the devil sing,
Somewhere close an angel cries,
A faulty heart, a feighned good bye.
Snatch me up in a bundle of air,
Don’t hold too tight,
You can get lost up there.
Fame you for thinking,
What a bitter to-fro catastrophe
Spoken cleanly on the tongue
And yet lost all the same
When the silence draws in.
We look for meaning in many things,
Hope for something that life might bring.
But poetry's just a bunch of words,
He feels alone in a crowded room,
His cries go unheard,
He wishes someone would notice him,
But no one cares.
If we are meant to stand up,
What rebellion’s left to cry?
The dreams that we have found,
Scattered on scrap heaps
Fall a little further and you'll see,
This is never where you were meant to be,
And this is way too neat for me,
But I have a feeling I'm fine,
I am a coffin,
I am the dark knots of wood
That cover the rotting corpse,
And horrors of death.
An amazing order of controlled totalitarianism,
A mystery of dictated authority,
Multi-faceted and yet a waste of time,
Differently formal, painfully the same,
Blackened rooms and painted skies,
Coffee red and tainted lies,
Still I shake when I say goodbye,
Still I ask and get answered why,