Oct 20, 2009

Old Man's Loneliness/Expecting Rain

A painter paints pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence.


Oct 5, 2009

Lift you skinny fists, like antennas to heaven

the car's on fire and there's no driver at the wheel
and the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides
and a dark wind blows

the government is corrupt
and we're on so many drugs
with the radio on and the curtains drawn

we're trapped in the belly of this horrible machine
and the machine is bleeding to death

the sun has fallen down
and the billboards are all leering
and the flags are all dead at the top of their poles

it went like this:

the buildings tumbled in on themselves
mothers clutching babies picked through the rubble
and pulled out their hair

the skyline was beautiful on fire
all twisted metal stretching upwards
everything washed in a thin orange haze

i said: "kiss me, you're beautiful -
these are truly the last days"

you grabbed my hand and we fell into it
like a daydream or a fever

we woke up one morning and fell a little further down -
for sure it's the valley of death

i open up my wallet
and it's full of blood

GYBE - dead flag blues

Death is the road to awe

..listen. He said that if they dug his father's body up, it would be gone. They planted a seed over his grave. The seed became a tree. Moses said his father became a part of that tree. He grew into the wood, into the bloom. And when a sparrow ate the tree's fruit, his father flew with the birds. He said... death was his father's road to awe. That's what he called it. The road to awe.

listening to: Atlantis - Carpe Omnium - We are almost there..

Don't worry.. we are almost there

Eternal Sunshine

Asleep is the rose, in tired innocence dreaming time away. Secure in the comfort of slumbers faint embrace. Blissfully ignorant, unaware of the imminence. Recurring memories emerge from the deep of old secrets unforgotten sleep. They sink beneath the surface just long enough for you to breathe. Then return to choke you when you wake up alone. Shredded inside there's one place left to turn. A long-term problem, a temporary remedy, but fuck it all anyway you can pretend to be happy. So many years of pathetic lies, empty promises and unfulfilled dreams are scattered like dust into the winds. Looking for the sun that eclipsed behind black feathered wings. Tomorrow never comes, there was only ever one day but now it's too late.

Anathema, Judgement