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Fountains of Soul
I’ve made a vow to avoid my own reflection. The quintessential cast of imperfection. I’ve got a long long lonely road in front of me. I see my home from the eyes of a reformed refugee. There’s nothing much left to see. The enterprising mother says yesterday is history, we can build ourselves another. A new drum will roll, banging out a different sound. Fountains of soul flowing from the underground. These broken walls used to be my sacred sanctuary. And now it serves it place as a makeshift mortuary. I’ve got a long long lonely road in front of me. I see my home from the eyes of a reformed refugee. There’s nothing much left to lose except my only brother. We’re walking in two by two, life is out from undercover. There’s nothing left for you to see yeah. But yesterday is history.
Colder Than The Edge of Space
Walls of kings circle the cities. Walls of faith circle the mind. Live the lie and you may live forever. I’m not designed to live so I can die. Born in chains, you’ll live forever. Born into slavery but where is your mind. Walking free, yeah it can break the manacle. Can’t you see, you were designed for life. I cast my faith into the sun. There’s got to be some warmth in everyone. But these disease ridden reprobates are colder than the edge of space. Lines of faith keep you together. But I live in a world of doubt and it sets me free. Free to doubt and make my own assumptions. Free to flout endemic theory.
I’m falling, falling for you. I’m dying, to find out the truth. A moment of great divine reaction. I’m rising to see this view. I’m falling for you. My world is on fire. My earth starts to move. I’m falling for you. Waiting for the tiniest spark was worth every hour, every night, every day in the dark. The atom that split and caused a chain reaction, smashing into the blue. When the demons start to find all the windows of your mind and a wide open door, they just waltz inside. When you’re under such attack and you’re falling down the cracks, with my head down in my hands and a monkey on my back.
I turned my back and you were everywhere. The paper and the screen, the signals in the air. That dirty sound that tried to silence you will fade away while your voice comes shining, shining through. You ripped them all to shreds, the morning that you said I’d rather die standing high than live crawling down on my knees under a falling sky. Your epitaph, the mocking lithograph, will raise a million brows 1000 years from now. The fighter fights for death and ugly war. This writer writes so he just might unlock these stubborn doors. Bewildered boys and girls and their sacrifice, pushing us under a veil. Stand high and our hearts will beat together. Freedom and love will prevail.
Between The Cradle And The Grave
This day could bite you in a big way. Could escalate the drama queen inside your being and shower you in bouquets. This day could be your cabriolet. Could elevate your peace of mind and help you find your very own judgement day – hurray. Unfurl, don’t postpone it to another world. No desire for immortality, set yourself free. Don’t be that elevator girl. My faith is decorum and my spirit is my life. I’m not living in the past now as a brainwashed sacrifice. I see the trouble in their dreams. Deciphering their meaning. Cherry picking verses. I see the waiting rooms of gods. To me it just seems odd. Seek the living that you crave between the cradle and the grave.
Caught by the sea. Undercurrents got you and me. Waking up on a different beach. We’re just debris. So hold onto anything in your memory. We’re going to need to reconstruct the civilized beliefs. This is the life and not the precursor. This is the way to understand the world. Don’t look for an answer in unfamiliar skies. Just find your mirror and find the shining light in your eyes. You’ll never find an answer in unfamiliar skies. Just find your mirror and find the shining light in your eyes. So hold onto anything cos this is going to hurt, you need to wake and wash your mind,stop rolling round in the dirt.
From the valleys of the west land to the suburbs of the south. Everybody got opinion. Everybody got a mouth. From the mountains of the Cairngorms to the flats of the east. People playing out their own plans. Soaking up the peace. I want to live in the land of many questions. Where your faith is nourished by your soul. Not by a book that governs your direction. I want to live where the fiammella grow. From the streets of Manchester to St Mary’s Bay. Everybody got opinion. Everybody got a say. From the valleys of the west land to the suburbs of the south. Everybody got opinion. Everybody got a mouth. I want to live in a life that I can question, where my faith can freely come and go. Not be a voiceless mind of apprehension. I want to live where the fiammella grow.
Joyride The Hearse
Come on you sorrowful gallows bird, let’s throw a party for the end of the world. Come get your fix with the heretics. It’s never going to get any worse, so let’s jump in and joyride the hearse. And all you grief stricken girls and boys. Top up your verses with some added white noise. Watch the parade of the renegade. It’s never going to get any worse, so let’s jump in and joyride the hearse. Now you’re floating in the water. Now you’re sinking to the deep. There’s no pain over the border. Only chaos above where you sleep.
Every eye locks onto this black parade. Every mind’s in denial. A poisoned chain of corruption walks on by. The family faces force a smile. The streets are red and the odium is black. A mad mélange of monomaniacs. In the name of divinity, take as much as you want, please. And walk on and on and on and on to the castle in the sky. And let the children, let the children, let them smile. There’s no bitching with a mad man on his way to the foolish paradise. But when this fool writhes in pain, evolution gains again.
She Buys Souls
Misled mother. Traded in her baby’s health. Now she’s the law and she’s ringing the fatal bell. She buys souls. She sells empty holes. This is the store and she’s selling the spoils of war. In another land a father weeps into his hands. What did I say ? Oh What did I do wrong? This crucifies my song. And in another town a brother takes a picture down. The love was real, as real as it could be. It’s all gone now you see. She buys souls. She sells empty holes. Now she’s the law and she’s ringing the fatal bell. Now she’s at war and she’s sending them all to hell.
Wash your face. Loosen up your hands and feel the wheel again. Come back to the human race. Shake out all the sand and make yourself again. No it’s not easy when you’re lonely. No it’s not hard to let them in. These black dogs, snakes and poisonous frogs don’t look too friendly. But science shows us the ropes. Charlatans spin the hoax and write their own ending. It’s not easy when you’re lonely. It’s not hard to let them in. Then it’s too easy when you’re lonely. When the phoneys and fakes invite you in. This is your maker and I’m lying by your side. Give me a break and I will open my arms wide. Live by the book and you won’t need an opinion. Die for the cause and you can join my dominion.
I feel the waves invite me in. The warming motion, healing my soul and my skin. I’ve been waiting for this moment to come. I’ve been writing my exit plan. I’m so high and so goodbye. Yes I’ve been waiting for you to be strong, for you to know the rights and the wrongs. The air can rip and tear, so straighten yourself when your chest starts to heave, cos right at the end you know everybody leaves. I’ve been waiting for this moment to come. I’ve been writing my exit plan.