Friday, July 16, 2010

Old Skins and Sold Sins

I have written a lot about you
I need to drink something new
Without me, the world is blind
And there’s a key I cannot find

I need the moon to glisten down
I hid the spoon to eat the town
You need my eyes to stare at me
And in my cage I am free

Why on earth shall I stand?
This is not my holy land
My holy land is far away
My holy hands are made of clay

My words are true, I am not
There are battles I had fought
Elephants have that scent of God
The King rules with his iron rod

That twenty-seventh rope is loose
And the thirty-ninth brings the booze
But I would rather stay at home
And keep on talking to the gods of Rome

My head, you see, is too proud for you
So here’s my ass, and the flower I drew
You are welcome to my house
But there's no milk, I've killed the cows

You hit the wall, you break it down
Your name is just that proper noun
Well the flames do listen to me
But I don’t really care, I’m just a tree

And no one must dare to ask
The reason why I wear this mask
In my garden the stars have claws
There’s the warden, he has his laws

I can’t feel, I’m not that strong
I’ll burn out, it won’t be long
But if you find me asleep again
Kiss the seas and bring the rain

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