Daily confessions turn to daily frustrations,
Life events turn to life changes,
Seems that turmoil sometimes leads to celebrations,
Eternal creature lost without help in sight,
Running away sometimes breaks through emotions,
Faithless some wander others just seek hope,
Changing is what has helped me through it all.
sometimes you feel your heart beat
just as fast as your life
everything's great like it is
just like the days passing by
it's not too fast, it's not too slow
you think you're immortal
and you can see where to go
everything that you hear
everthing that you see
is not the same as yesterday 'cause you couldn't hear what they said
is not the same as yesterday 'cause you couldn't see what they meant
you've experienced a secret
now you know how to live
you've got all that you've ever wanted
there is nothing that you miss
it's not too fast, it's not too slow...
Surrealistic Dreams penetrating internal emotions,
Transcending personal limits, underestimating eternal values,
Not only am I a liar, I am a man therefore imperfect I am,
Mortal beliefs of what is to come, forgetting history of what has been told,
Why must I learn from doing, rather then learning from what has been done,
Imperfection leads to beauty, therefore the scars I have are masterpieces,
One can never get to the finish without first learning where to start,
Daily struggles give way to daily victories, and victories always lead to losses,
These surrealistic dreams of being what I am not always look inviting,
I guess the dreams are what makes us into who we are.
i cant think of what to say, i see the dawning of the day, i look away from the night, only to find the sun light, i fight with my dreams, its never what it seems, never how you think, i sink into fantasy, but then i see, this just isn't me, i awake and lay, looking toward the bay, from far away, i think of what to say, as i turn my face from the night, to see the bright sun light, learning by each step, maybe i will one day reach, the bay far away, and maybe i will know what to say, and know who i am and maybe finally, i will be me |
It's no secret now, everyone knows
It's my shoulder the night uses to cry,
My bedroom with six hundred windows,
My feet where the truth comes to die.
My pillow where the moon can't stop weeping,
While the tide washes the prints in the sand,
Those eyes that seek out new meaning,
Your scarred, broken soul in my hands.
This pulse that's been chained to your sorrow,
Dandelions amidst lilies of snow,
Someday I will see through your disguise,
Someday pick my name from your lies.
Till then, I'll hide my soul in your scrapbook,
With the photographs there and the moss,
And I'll yield to the flood of your innocence,
With my cheap guitar and my cross.
And you may carry me down to the darkness,
Wipe my slate with a flick of your wrist.
Take this verse, this accursed harness--
It's yours now; it's all that there is.
This morning, I ate my piano etude.
As I practiced, notes dropped off the page
suspended in air by their strings,
the ringing of their own black bells
falling into me.
My selfish tongue lapped up each
e flat in ecstasy and Schumann
watched from above,
tasted his melodies too,
pretended it was the first time.
Tonight, notes pore out from
skin in rainbow waves.
Musical infections reproduce into
symphonies one, three, five,
out of my fingers in black f sharps
white c harmony, until
I give birth right there on the stage
crescendo allegro coda
silence broken by applause--
greedy hands of the modern music lover.
Early morning when the sun comes up
And to it's misery finds the burning earth,
Hears the news of bomb-blast last night
Sun feels ashamed and tries to hide.
It calls the cloud to cover it through
And remembers the earth which used to be good.
Hiding from a corner, moon calls the sun
Tells the horrifying killings that went before the dawn.
Sun melts in tear but the truth is truth
It loves not to shine today and it seems to brood
The blame is on us my brothers, I say
Love and peace lies only on few prayers today.
Endless cycle, I change with conformity unlike myself,
Emotionless, heart forsaken I must pour my pride out,
Onto my anger which causes that seed to split and thus grow,
Deception once again strides to overcome my personal demon,
Perfectionism although not for myself but for what I believe,
So many leaders nowadays and no workers is what I see,
False realities laced with broken dreams and American lies,
Commercialism is what I refer to as the dream for which my ancestors died,
Overtaken is how I feel by this fast food life we now live,
Understanding can go along way to stop this gyrating earth,
Get the knife out of your back before you shove it in someone elses.
Twas the night before Baghdad
And all through the base
Not a heartbeat was silent
Not a smile on one face
The soldiers at attention
Fists raised in the air
Saddam is a monster!
We must all go there!
So we loaded our planes
With our guns and our tanks
And we sent all the soldiers
To Kuwaits outer banks
From Kuwait, from Turkey
From Saudi and more
With battering rams
We knocked on his door
The Fedayin heard
All the military clatter
And ran to Saddam
To ask what was the matter
Don't worry he said
With a heartening ring
They financed my reign
They won't do this thing
We bombed all the buildings
Til the fires were glowing
While Baby Bush yelled
Keep the oil pipes flowing!
He should be a magician
Our Baby Bush, cuz you see
He created the biggest illusion
The WMD's
He lied to us all
About terror and pain
When all that he's after
Is monetary gain
For Daddy, and Barbara
And Baby Bush too
There is no such thing
As too much oil revenue
Some people believe
That it's for our own good
To bomb and to kill
To shed innocent blood
They sleep in their beds
Oblivious to lies
While we who have wakened
Hear bloodcurdling cries
Cries of our fathers,
Our brothers and sons
Sent to fight in a war
That cannot be won
We liberated them!
Our Baby Bush chimes
That is why they attack us
Time after time
With Christmas upon us
He steps up his work
Of campaigning again
The self serving jerk!
He’ll don his flight suit
He’ll have all his fun
Wishing “Merry Christmas! Keep fighting!”
And to all....Duck and Run!
Muddy, rat , infested trenches
So dark and so deep.
A ready-made grave
For a premature sleep!
Oh, how I loathe these trenches
The killing day after day,
The slaughter of human life
To die in such a terribble way!
In these trenches we call graves
No man should ever be.
Why can't we all live in peace,
love and harmony?
So, soldiers lay down your weapons
Shake hands and walk away.
Return to your homeland
and from peace never stray!
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