I will just keep waiting...
you will just keep waiting. In the cold...
the supplement...
we lost some friends...
we drove the bends...
so small...
A conscious decision to persuade
ourselves amongst the common human...
The drive to complete ourselves has become a blurry vision.
Always wanting more...
bettering ourselves through selfish minds.
it has started to overflow.
A current that creates this undertow..
swimming beneath it all... left behind...

I will just keep waiting...
you will just keep waiting.
(Change for the worst)
Obsession. Obsessive. Obsessed. Abscess.
Rip out my fucking eyes. I can't watch you grow into this.
I can't watch the young turn to all of this. Their eyes left wide...
night goggles instead of sleep.
(Change for the best)
Life life... you have all helped me break from this...
the few times relaxation steps in bringing me a peaceful place.
It's a must these days, for the colors are fading.
Enclosed in a space of soothing sounds. Walking in my own movie...
the fly by with no remembrance. Constant rushing...
the waves have pushed me to where I need to be.
Sunlight drenched on my skin...
only the sounds of what my mind wants to hear. Block out the rush hour...
block out the tired herds...
on the shaded side it's starting to affect the process of your reading eyes.
An aggressive need for a hostile voice is creeping away...
this block happens every year...
and like I said before the color keeps fading.
I couldn't trade this for anything in the world...
and all of you are the reason. It's been a while since we've
written each other and hopefully this will comfort you.
Cause like most of my kind, I won't take it all for granted.

I will just keep waiting... you will just keep waiting.

Rebuild.
Cannot close our eyes.

Construction paper traffic... corner office destruction.
The cityspace burns brighter by the hour.
Clock tower: bring us all down.
Marching like ants to the foundation of a higher form.
Trash. Capped and smothered. Trash bag. Trash hat.
Wrinkle-free clients of doom.

Feed me fear. (Informal gluttony)

Construction paper lawns... force-fed attention grabber...
when will you learn.
First come first serve.
The all can eat trumpet... playing the tunes of our death.
Breathe............ now blow. Now blow.

Let it be heard

The preacher's talent is going through the airwaves.
(I need to be led in the right direction. Set up the bumpers... running in the gutter)
The little kids taught me well...
but I wonder why they don't listen anymore.
(It's a television nightmare).
Eat and watch, eat eat eat... what they feed.
Corner office tubes... give me the best view in the hut.

Feed me fear. (Informal gluttony)

Everywhere I look they are there...
what is everyone doing? Going to a home?
To a place that makes us feel warm...
a place that grants us a smile. Seems like a very simple idea,
but not hardly figured out.
(looking everywhere)
I just see faces. Faces staring blank as they go on with the routine.
This routine. Nothing new... its time to go through with this.

A spaceman. That's what they say I am.
Nothing but a spaceman...
always pushing it all away.
Trying to get to that one place I call home.

The journey begins... forcing a new life with the unexplained...
a creeping rush that surrounds me.
Floating.... floating away.
Always pushing it all away.
Trying to get to that one place I call home.
My own planet... I allowed this wish...
unexpected... not knowing why.
Wonder why I question it now? I'm my own planet...
not many can experience this sensation. Loneliness is creeping out...
or in, however you think of it. But it sure is surrounding me.
Maybe all the complaining is an accurance of boredom. I
suppose it's too late.

I am floating farther and farther away.
I did love, I did laugh, I did live.
(Now I'm my own planet)

A spaceman. They say I am... a spaceman.
Planets everywhere... my own destiny...
I'm floating towards the sun. The sun of nothing.
Floating towards the sun, the sun of nothing.
I have become the sun of nothing.
Nothing is here. Memories are not clear.

Floating to the sun... farther away.
I can't believe that's what it has come to...
I never really had it all that bad.
I just looked around and never thought about the blank stares.
(Blank stairs)
They were looking into something much worse than what I thought I was.
Selfishness is a very sticky quality of this species.
Looking around... I don't see any faces...
yes I am lonely. It's to be expected. I'll sleep now.
(Dream waves)

My teeth taste funny today... they seem more jagged than normal.
I've been told that I have been grinding them like gears during my dream hours...
I wonder if it's just my thoughts fusing into one frequent dream...
one which parts with the night.
(These are frequent amongst the walking crawlers).
I saw them dragging the other day.
Scraping their knees and elbows against the bumpy pavement.
Blood tracks have been filling the streets.
Seems the high horse is taking them all home...
I can't leave myself out.
Why should we sleep today...
Why should we awake tomorrow?
We can just pop back a few and drift through this pre-programmed flight.

Across all oceans... a windy, noisy trek...
this seems to be what I've needed.
The view used to be better... lands are growing into one.
We wanted it this way. We were brought up to grow into one.
I'm going to fly up soon and seek other lands. The soothing air of flight...
a bird's eye view into what I've always imagined life could be.
Will it be sought after?
It might just be useless writing and ideas that laziness will corrupt in the end.
Bones of dust need hardening. I think the prescription is found.

Sleep on... fly on.
In your mind, you can fly.

My teeth grin oddly today...
they seem to gleam more than normal.
Maybe it will be noticed.
(That's all we ever asked for. Grinning through it all.........)

(In the corner the thinker thinks: I seem more jagged than normal.
I am the episode of constant wandering.
A nomad in my own surroundings... this hand produces the nerve.)

Walking dead.

The headless lover of three...
an unspeakable affair...

The lady on the hill creates a glorious departure from her everyday life.
Constant swelling of the ankles... A pleasant cry for help...
A grieving widow mothered this headless wonder.
A perfect crime, that soon lived on. A different life it had to develop...
gripped by every limb it could hold, the lifeless ideas it grew onto its own.
A much needed surrender.
Trees soon started to grow from what seemed a lifeless neck..
From a monster to a beauty in quick months...
its life seemed to be on its way to a rare freedom.
It decided it should take advantage of this idea
(the average traveler hints at this every single day of their lives)
A mixture of paintings soon took course in its body...
a spectacle none-the-less.
Walking proud through life letting its branches guide the way.
A path which seemed to be covered in sunshine...
it must be human, for its qualities seem
to outdo even the grandest occupant of the town...
this started to catch the attention of the un-branched...
it had never experienced an affection of this kind...
a wonderful and frightening new obstacle in its life.
Years went by as it finally found true love...
the love of others... three to be exact...
Letting them into every secret... feeding from every branch...
every part used for their lives...
(This went on with no negative scents 'til the 5th year came around...)
It noticed its walking seemed more staggered than normal.
The breeze didn't flow like it used to...
the heart seemed to pound slower and slower...
what caused this?
It soon was noticed that these three had torn every branch, every single stem...
torn to its last life...
how hadn't it noticed a drastic change in the surroundings...
It didn't think anything could go this wrong.

"Comfort..."

It thought life was constant
happiness if constant happiness was all that was given out.
(It left its entire existence up to these three lovers)
Hints and all, they did as they pleased...
and now it's starting to wilt away.
(They will see this LOST PERFECTION. It will come back around...
will the newborn live to tell this story? Rewind.)

Instrumental

The monsters are made,
and we have proven that we will be one of them.
The whores take the stage... flash our skills...
gotta draw 'em in... gotta keep 'em on their toes...
don't show them how you truly are... who would want honesty...
who would want a group of people that one can relate with.
We need worship, we need devotion...
becoming gods from the image that is thrown...
thrown out in their everyday lives to comfort...
it's not a musical journey anymore...
they chose Camilla and we stood by her the entire time...
monotonous expression... a forced replica of a tired sound...
puppets for a greed-driven carnival...
the same charade as the passing years...
force me out there. Don't give them a chance.
They want to be fed... fed a simple replication of past greatness.
(Things have changed... we have changed.
Personal happiness is what we strive to achieve...
so you can love or hate... it won't change a thing for us.)

Step back. Evaluate. Recognize.

We just need to throw some new ideas in...
(It) will eventually get out of this closed of circle we are part of...
it's all the same.
This is all we have when we die.
It's what's left of us when we die.
We will be remembered for this.

White wall.