The amazing graces
Of earths eternal sunshine
Even on rainy days
The lovers in nature
Embrace
Knowing it’s destiny
What else has ever been?
To stare the flower in the eye
Steal from it it’s lifeline
Carry forth the lit torch
Onward, in beauty to be reborn
Embrace
Knowing it’s destiny
Has it stumbled at any step?
(and then we stumble forth)
Into the daylight
Away from sleep
The world is open
Embrace
Knowing it’s destiny
The bee lazily searches
For it’s one true match
Riddled with perverse desires to multiply the uncontrollable
I reach deep inside and fight for nourishment
Scared to make a sound, be summoning an orchestra
The slayed lay awaiting tomorrows destiny
I go through spells of masturbating and drinking tea
Drinking tea and masturbating
It’s like I have an inner desire to be some kind of
Fucking poet, wracking my brain for some utter nonsense
Only to release it with an unconventional treble clef
It’s nonsense, fucking utterly nonsense.
As a young boy I’d sit mesmerized by the flicker of
Angel’s wings floating through the garden on hot summers days
The other fellas would be off playing footy
Me, I’d just enjoy the cool breeze as I lay back
Slow buzz of another little creature coming to pry at my brain
Now, I’m wrecked with heartache that fails to leave me
Little bursts of memories that inflict me with so much agony
I’ve replayed it over and over again, each time with a new smell
But each time it lasts a little bit longer
Maybe one of these times there won’t be an ending to the sad verses
Tomorrow I’ll spit into the middle of the soup
Chanting my spells and adding a drop of blood from a virgin’s finger
I wont wake the dogs for they don’t dance with my words
They act stupid and make believe they don’t see the ghosts that I see
I know better, we all share miseries destiny
Reason comes to the surface like an infected pond
Suffocating the life out of dreams and hope
But that’s ok, it’s just a small pond in the circle of life
Bigger fish will come from different ponds
The memory, however, shall remain constant forever
The fun times afloat our two-seater
Rowing slowly around the familiar banks of destiny
Wearing in the good spots of weathered wear
The boat it can sink, but I surely can swim
The fish it can run, but I surely can reel
The oars they can break, but surely I can then kick
But if, upon the banks where I stand
I should see such a torment dark seas that do bring
I shall pack up my oils, wear my wellingtons proudly
And head home, till the banks they do clear