The Storm

What will you do?

what will you think?

when

the

time

comes.

What will you do?

What will you think?

when 

the

time

comes

to do anything.

you've never really done a fucking thing

and you've never really thought about it.

you've never really ever made a single choice

that ever really meant a thing

or had a 

consequence.

keep on coasting

keep on treading

and the weight of your choices

held on to by pride

they will pull you down,

drag you under,

make you drown

make you drown.

this is the time

this is the thunder

you are the strike,

you are the violence,

a stab in the dark

a cut throught the blindness

---

the storm is upon you

and if you don't control it

it'll tear you asunder

it'll tear you asunder

if you're not apart of it

they'll tear you asunder

---

let the rain wash you down

let yourself feel electric

'cause you are the strike

you are the violence

the fist in the fight

the howl in the night

you are the current

that's bringing this 

world back to life.

Plastic Little Pirate Sword

staring at this glass i'm holding in my hand 

i wonder why they serve it with a plastic little pirate sword 

and a storm starts brewing in the sky, up above 

then CRACK like a lightening bolt from in the sky, up above 

...up above. 

sword in hand i am the captain here of my ship 

and staring at my drink i see the waves that break upon the rocks 

I see new horizons every time i'm turning keel 

and every time i'm turnin i see new sunsets a'burnin 

...sunsets are burning. 

bounce off the rocks for a drink or two, all night through, 

not really sure where i'm going to, don't have a clue, 

...maybe i'll find a way. 

but hey bartender, mister Poseidon now, 

the tide's gone out, 

i've beached my ship. 

and when i look around i see this ain't the place i wanna be 

so top me up 

and set my sails, 

i know you know that i just want to be free. 

sword in hand i am the captain here of my ship, 

it's not called drinking when you're sailing to another land. 

no no, thank you, i've never used a crew before 

and i'll drift like this for days if i need to. 

...and i need to.

I want to bleed.

A breathing machine
is what i've become
no engine to rev in anger

a tower of bones
with hands to shake hands
but no strength to hold onto purpose

these feet making tracks,
they don't fill big shoes
and the shadow i cast will not make the news.

and the direction that i'm going,
with the perfection insisted...
feels like i've been here, oh, ten thousand times before.
looking in a mirror
every single time
i go to open the door.

every place i go
people are always leaving
grieving about the greener grass they thought they'd found before.
why's there no place that i've heard of
where the locals long to stay?
why are dreams always found in the places far away?

i'm done with doors, it's time for bricks thrown through the windows,
no more handshakes, only elbows in chest cavities.
i want to bleed, to bleed,
to stain more lives than i could ever cast in shadow.
you can't see the scars i have so i'll earn the ones you can,
i want to bleed, to bleed,
to bleed.

who really needs an engine to rev up after all?
with gas prices so high anger's not cost effective
and who needs a heart to beat with passion
when blood makes people sick?
who needs a heart to beat at all
when it won't beat back the dreams
of far away places,
both heaven and obscene.

as long as i'm not giving up
then i'm not giving in
and my dying breath will fan
the fire that's within.

i'm done with doors, it's time for bricks thrown through the windows,
no more handshakes, only elbows in chest cavities.
i want to bleed, to bleed,
to stain more lives than i could ever cast in shadow.
you can't see the scars i have so i'll earn the ones you can,
i want to be, to be,
to be.