LAVA LAMPS, THE DAMNED AND MY LAMENT TO SG?
...i sometimes enjoy the negativity that comes with being broke on these blue ash fridays, hooked on the stale air of another bud smashed, leaving its black trail of smudged death footprints on bruised glass: her beautiful painted lips that kissed upon this pulsing ache of heart-race...a night of purple flashing sex with those green eyes parading me in like a bull going mad over red flags...
...and sometimes i miss the carpet...where we made it...naturally...the area where she curled up into balls like heaven's america and sighed heavy dreams that sounded like my midget cats crying with their violin fragile souls in the blue of midnight's dawning...
...stale sighs over january coldness...worm blindess under this hard brick of foundation where the sun never rises...i sometimes scent the bed with the same cologne i wore during our first nite together becuz it helps me think of better times...only i lied, it was actually aftershave...
...our first drive together...to dive for some fast-food...seemed gourmet to me...wasn't even thinking of what lies between those groovy legs...another t.rex tune...another teenage gaze...
...and elton john wasn't all tumbleweed before he met the walt-disney connection...and probably no one here will ever get what i said...the flash-play trivia never made it's way to vh1 before it became mtv1 and 2...still.."island girl" remains on top 10 list of one the sweetest melodies that this heart made of glass can ever shatter to...
...but, never is anything quite the same since the last time love discovered me and i threw it all away...tried to look at it underneath a microscope...be an anthropologist, study its origin while studying every dictionary...
...love, sister, is one big pain...so i tend ignore it as every beautiful girl i scent passes my way...
...and i want to decorate each trace of opium with a golden display of city lights...paint her skin so colorful that she radiates of a sky so bright...she'll never go back to him as i embrace her beautiful golden necklace not made of blood money...
...SOLITUDE THIS NIGHT...i turned on those lava lamps early enough this night so that i could dream of romance once again...wax boiled high and low...tried to read the book that lay in front me...wanted to get it off, but the basement was too cold...
...AND SO... as i suck in the last puff of the cigarette that lays aside of me...i think of the better days when my penis seemed connected to me...the fragrant winds of her sitting beside me...the silent winds when she brushed up beside me fully clothed, but i got fully naked and let my mind explode...
...and she was gone, gone, gone....
...can't say that the last true love led me anywhere...but into a big cloud of madness...
...NOW...my wallet...it's empty...and i'm used to all the poison winds that tend to build up inside of me...
...don't want anything but the last damned album released becuz david vanian never seems to age...i'm used to the last bit of truth...i awake each day looking madder...
...and i cannot afford you...cd or vinyl...
dear sg girl:
ignore my blogs...i'm demeaning to this strong crew of men that are supposed to keep you feeling warm at nite... i'm another poor smack to the vibrations that kept you buzzing at nite. all of those fat breeds with shaved heads...never had enough body and soul to keep the last girl happy...so, why am i still pretending?
...i sometimes enjoy the negativity that comes with being broke on these blue ash fridays, hooked on the stale air of another bud smashed, leaving its black trail of smudged death footprints on bruised glass: her beautiful painted lips that kissed upon this pulsing ache of heart-race...a night of purple flashing sex with those green eyes parading me in like a bull going mad over red flags...
...and sometimes i miss the carpet...where we made it...naturally...the area where she curled up into balls like heaven's america and sighed heavy dreams that sounded like my midget cats crying with their violin fragile souls in the blue of midnight's dawning...
...stale sighs over january coldness...worm blindess under this hard brick of foundation where the sun never rises...i sometimes scent the bed with the same cologne i wore during our first nite together becuz it helps me think of better times...only i lied, it was actually aftershave...
...our first drive together...to dive for some fast-food...seemed gourmet to me...wasn't even thinking of what lies between those groovy legs...another t.rex tune...another teenage gaze...
...and elton john wasn't all tumbleweed before he met the walt-disney connection...and probably no one here will ever get what i said...the flash-play trivia never made it's way to vh1 before it became mtv1 and 2...still.."island girl" remains on top 10 list of one the sweetest melodies that this heart made of glass can ever shatter to...
...but, never is anything quite the same since the last time love discovered me and i threw it all away...tried to look at it underneath a microscope...be an anthropologist, study its origin while studying every dictionary...
...love, sister, is one big pain...so i tend ignore it as every beautiful girl i scent passes my way...
...and i want to decorate each trace of opium with a golden display of city lights...paint her skin so colorful that she radiates of a sky so bright...she'll never go back to him as i embrace her beautiful golden necklace not made of blood money...
...SOLITUDE THIS NIGHT...i turned on those lava lamps early enough this night so that i could dream of romance once again...wax boiled high and low...tried to read the book that lay in front me...wanted to get it off, but the basement was too cold...
...AND SO... as i suck in the last puff of the cigarette that lays aside of me...i think of the better days when my penis seemed connected to me...the fragrant winds of her sitting beside me...the silent winds when she brushed up beside me fully clothed, but i got fully naked and let my mind explode...
...and she was gone, gone, gone....
...can't say that the last true love led me anywhere...but into a big cloud of madness...
...NOW...my wallet...it's empty...and i'm used to all the poison winds that tend to build up inside of me...
...don't want anything but the last damned album released becuz david vanian never seems to age...i'm used to the last bit of truth...i awake each day looking madder...
...and i cannot afford you...cd or vinyl...
dear sg girl:
ignore my blogs...i'm demeaning to this strong crew of men that are supposed to keep you feeling warm at nite... i'm another poor smack to the vibrations that kept you buzzing at nite. all of those fat breeds with shaved heads...never had enough body and soul to keep the last girl happy...so, why am i still pretending?