This is my best impression of how the guilty hang. A confession invented by the peculiar page, witness the grace of the game and save your praise for the savior to raze this stage. And I would hand me over happily, see, I’ve earned my cover most carefully by them sticks and stones that owned important place and time and feed me alibis for my disappointing prosody that promised me the word not the paperback progeny re-posed and re-purged, is it loose, dilute, aloof, suffused with the proof of better second tries? Yeah, but I don’t mind that beat, ‘cause it’s a melody. Muse, divine me an art and buy me an artistry. See, I will give you every lonely piece of me and never want for mine.
I am all out of time, I’m all out of you too
This is my best impression of how the innocent crawl. Walk to run first or first stand then fall. Just remember the real course, and driving is easier pursued by the second hand. And this is my best impression of going belly high, see me don’t give in, don’t give up, do I? No. I am defiant of the factory molds and the fate proven partially blind. Call it the circle made whole, get what the beast deserves or whatever you want my friend, it’s just if I’m hard to see, then it’s hard to breathe. I’ve got a pulse that won’t pretend, that I don’t mind that beat, ‘cause it’s a melody. Muse, divine me an art and buy me an artistry. I will give you every lonely piece of me and never want for mine.
I am all out of time, I’m all out of you too
This is my unreasonable demon soothed. One possible dream removed. My challenge to fill the room by one silent voice--improved. An empty victory don’t bother me by the loss, I’ll be a little less empty when I’ve recovered the cost of the page--ever curious, divine and delirious, my invective invested is inviting a series of axioms to list: don’t count your love by the kiss, your fame by the risk, don’t own the boast over the bliss. This is how I get older I guess.
