The child is grown, the dream is gone..

Monday, November 17, 2014

Coma Grey



Did the things finally stop moving in your head?
Did the voices cease to whisper in your ear?
Did you find your sanity back from the shadows?
And have you convinced yourself to quit taking the placebos?


Did the roads all look so different at night?
And did you forget where to turn to glimpse a fleeting sight?
Did you stop having those dreams in which you died?
Oh did you tell your doctor about the nightmares that never lied?


You know it's too late, the train is leaving in a while.
You know you can't change the fact, you have to walk that flowery aisle. 
Kiss your bride and make her happy with your fat wallet,
And kill your darling with whom you danced your high school ballet. 


If they say you're sleazy and blame you for your appetite of lust,
Then tell them about that poltergeist who screams 'dying a virgin was unjust..'
If they say you're fucking crazy, they've got it all wrong.
And if they they call you fucking lazy, then you need to sing them one more song!


Yes you might forget the words the next time you try to sing,
But remember that day when you comfortably played your old six string.
The couplets in your poems won't rhyme or make sense anymore, 
But remember that oath to complete your black book that you once swore.


The dreams will repeat and you will fall once more off that apartment.
Your memory will take toll and you will fear your own power of judgement. 
If the paranoia makes you forget who you really can be,
Then look at that man in the mirror and search where your eyes can't see.


The worms from your past might fill up your tidy fucking brain,
And she might leave you dry when you're about to kiss in the unseasoned rain. 
But don't give in to their God until you can still manage a half grin,
And don't slay those worms before you have committed the final sin..


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