I
her body was pure poetry
made me insane and addicted
to the sugar and the salt
still echoes in the vast catacombs
throughout eternity
we keep being born again and again
as artists and warriors
good men, evil men
we see those gypsy eyes
can take an army down
all soldiers on their knees
oh great mother let us worship thee
tell us who to kill, that’s how i felt
when we found each other
at the ends of our worlds
II
i speak in songs that
come through troubled men
like you but don’t worry my son
for the days are long
so much time to create and waste
create and waste
waste your days
create the days
so you can hear me
sing to you, as you
these hard times are mirrors
for the mind
you find yourself in others
get lost in someone
then you curse the gods
as if that will somehow cast out
some demons you think are real
you wonder…
wonder what is left or is it the same
over and over again
same old mess
you mess it up
let it all bleed
new colors
new shapes
new sounds
new patterns
a new mess
i speak as the mess
you have created
you face it
you chase it
you crave it
you find it
you take it
you hold it
you own it
you want it
you lose it
you miss it
wanna kill it
forget it
forget yourself
get lost again
the darkness
overrated, underrated
you create it
you waste it
the chaos
the order
the magic
the madness
the glory
the horror
the sugar and the salt