A series of demos or sketches, if you will. It starts happy, begins to dip into some darkness, then ends generally hopeful.
Celebrate with a glass of wine. Or, the whole bottle of wine.
We've traveled all this way, thanks to you, I'd say...so here's to us.
Say you want to stay.
We say we want to stay, for more than just today...so here's to us.
Celebrate whatever comes next. It's up to us. Forever.
their kids up really good.
ambivalent ideas of what is good.
for anyone that (and not just anyone) could tell a decent tale.
and suss out the frauds among the good.
men and women from some magic that he's run and gone and done.
of the fate of twisted tales.
Hey look there he goes!
Fox with the golden hair.
but you and I must leave right now.
where both the moon and bird do sing?
A kaleidoscope of twirling lights.
An imagining along these walls.
brandishing them at wind's roar.
translucent hosts of another world.
My blood shotgun red eyes.
I bit my tongue-in-cheek my mouth it bleeds.
And, spits and shouts cutting words from inside of me.
There's a fury in the fever in my head.
My organs burn with butterflies.
and weightless outside my window.
in lieu of my shotgun eyes.
I swim. Backstroking the moonlight; lightly.
Until I come down with white eyes.
In walks the man looking awfully thin, along with the woman he raised four boys with and his dog. He walks in circles circling the ache in his heart harboring horrible tipping points that tripped up the course of new starts.
A wounded leg tormented him and twisted his turn and basically at all corners the injury just returns. And above all. Theodore knew. He thought it through. He thought that if...if he just changed his name it would kill the shame. But death and disappearing are not the same.
Theodore Hinkley went by "Think" for short from shame. "And all of the beautiful colors of the new name will remain. And on and on these beautiful colors will live on and on!!!"
In walks the man with his new name. Oh, he can't shake the shivers. No he can't shake the shivers, it seems. There's a limp in his step. And a lump in his soul, so he thinks it is illogical to wear these damn shoes anymore. A shorter life tormented him and twisted his thoughts he'd scribble in his journal kept in his coat over of his heart. And above all. He's all alone. And on all fours. He hangs his head down. Down he heads. hung by his history. Arose from any name still smells of defeat.
He will remain at the top of the mountain top screaming his name. It's a shame.
There's a ghost in the blinds watching me.
on a breeze. He never leaves.
The black curtain calls. Save me.
in my dreams. Undercover with my lover.
The black curtain calls. Wake me.
Save us from a sickened town.
stave off a fatal frost.
all is not a lost cause.
Because nobody opens their goddamn eyes!!!
There's a cost. We die.
Because nobody opens their goddamn minds!!!
I just can't get through to people.
Hold on. I'm commandeering the machine now.
to burn up this disease.
by pounding at this great machine.