Too little, Too Late, Too Soon.

All the same songs,

Play on our radios;

Their mournful chords,

Speaking the same words:

"You still love, but move on".

And all their singers,

Have felt the same,

We're all human after all,

Bound by hope and pain.

We're in the same place,

Yet thousands of miles away;

I still love you, every fiber

Every speck, every moment

We'd spent -hand in hand

In the icecream isle,

Sitting here, fighting what we feel

Desperate to deny love is real.

I'm not gone, don't you see?

I'm still here, I didn't leave;

I've meant every word,

I'm silent, so you can have peace;

Finally able, somewhat stable,

Trying to give you the things

You'd told me you'd need.

Unmentionable (My soul will be laying beside the bedside you burn in)

Am I your unmentionable?

A private thing

To be kept hidden deep

In your mind's deeper drawers?

A secret thing of desire

Tinged with fear?

Will you tell him of me

As you sip coffee?

My name spoken in tones

Either casual

Of the receeding past,

Or bleeding with present pain?

Will you consider his placcating words,

His gentle probing concern

As he imagines

The color of the panties you wear.

And will you be lonely love?

Is your heart still tethered

Or roaming free, bonds broken

By shears held in hands of fear?

Will you give in,

Let him slip them off?

Leave my impoded heart

Lying on the floor in bedside

Shadow as you give him all, I no more?

Am I unmnetionable, a sectet thing

To which you will not give will,

Or word or want or care to speak?

Am I soon to be forgotten,

My good intentions all misbegotten?

Your Dear John departing

The anterchamber of your heart?

Am I unmentionable, inconsiderable,

Ragged emotions and threads

Of fading memories

Laying on the floor,

Fading from memory -

Soon to fall apart?

Every Word (Is for you)

Yes, every word is for you.

All the gauze, the arrogance and indifference

I wrap around these wounds holds true,

Real love cuts deep though,

And just bleeds right through.

If I've failed

To be much of a man

I'm sorry for that.

If I've failed,

To love you like I should,

I've failed to be a man.

Yes, every cell in my body

Bears your name and yours alone.

When my insolent eyes roam others freely

My heart screams your name,

That I'm still yours completely.

If I die here

In the desert alone,

I'll think of you as I pass.

If I die here,

So far from home,

I hope you know -

Every word is for you.

Your Word (Such a flimsy thing)

Your word, such a fragile and flimsy thing,

Readily given, quickly broken and quick to

Fly from pearch like crow on ready wings.

All the words ring hollow,

Like little mallets hitting heavily

On my belltower bound heart.

Trust, oh I try, tried and tried

But your word and action lie far apart

Your only consistency is to wound me,

Push away, keep solemn vows only

When they serve to make me pay

For my trangsressions, rightly wrong;

So I pay in blood while you move on -

And you tell me you haven't,

That it's a trivial thing,

And you know how it cuts me,

Every time we seldom speak.

Keeping your options open,

Now as was before, and I wonder

How long until my faith and hope

Give way and my stomach falls to the floor.

I try and trust, but something here

Is misbegotten, plain untrue or at best dishonest-

To me or them, the electronic horde

Who seek to slip in on those three words.

I try to trust, I try, I do try,

But what is there to trust when

So many words amounted to pretty lies?

This damage, this acid, it eats away

And if there is to be anything again,

It creates only more wounds, more pain.

And though I love, I do, I do,

It is these things that ruin my sleep,

And sew fear my faith is misplaced in you.

All the broken people say:

I'll fix myself tomorrow,

I'm just to broken today.

Yeah, all the broken girls sing

Shitty break up songs,

Out of key. Find salvation

From depresssion in the

Daisy chain of new arms.

And the broken men scream,

Their ragged voices in the night:

I fought the war, loved her more

Than anyone ever has before!

All the broken people sing

Withered hearts with weak words.

All the broken people scream

In defeat at the cycle they repeat,

They justify, they sought -they seek.

All the broken people sing out

Just let this guilt die, let the truth

Sleep, let me forever just be weak.

That Shadow (the dappled veil)

That Shadow, the veil

Drawn over the glass

Of grave visage;

Serene, silent

As still lakes

Eternal, undisturbed

But for slithering tears

Rippling in sobbing wake.

That Shadow, the pale

Light of cindery skiff

Smoldering after weeping

Flames to dancing stars;

It echoes deaf

In the creases

Of quivering lips and eyes,

Prideful, and of pride bereft.

That Shadow, dappled

And hanging in Sunday

Summer swelter, the

Mercy of leafy oaks-

The hangman's assembled shelter-

It feeds in slow voracity

Of back bitten tears and

Those stolen years

As broken necks are bowed in prayer.

That Shadow, the pale and dappled veil-

It feeds.

In the depth of boundless cimmerian dreams

And the captive soul's breathless screams.

Book of the Dead (Play at passion)

There's revolution in the streets of Cairo tonight,

And kids in Ohio holding solidarity signs

Sipping hot cocoa and cheering at cars passing by-

But me, I'm dying a little bit tonight.

For all the bleeding hearts being weighed

Against feathers, and being found heavy.

Fed to the beasts of their own desperation

Chained and chomping at the gates of hell.

Oh how hollow it all rings

To the men in suits passing by

Watching their kids play at passion

Before slipping off to get drunk and fuck

Tell jokes and take drugs without a thought

For all the men dying in the streets tonight.

Spare me your revolution, your misguided

Delusions that you're not the reason why

Honest men are fighting in desert streets tonight.

So raise your banners high

Chant and call into the night

Excuse your nihilism

With empty activism

Pump your fist in revolution

Sip your cocoa, your childish solution.