Tuesday 30 June 2009

Little Miss Sunshine

little Miss Sunshine Opend the doors
For life with smiles so full
As she just tapped away on the edges of a tin
Marked Creme bojaree
She said sweet swaree
Come here darling day
And I will tap on your heart
With the pitter of rain drops as
I say come and stay

She smiles at me and dances away
With a certain step of repartee
And the lips on her face
curl with flexing glee
Flinching only with the sparing of looks
As Summers got her hooks
And her crooks
Summer does make me smile
as hse unfurled her white teeth

Pulling on these heart strings
As little miss sunshine
Dances under the rainbow
tearing the clouds
With windswept light
Bleeding through the water drops
Roasting this face
With a memmory of a smile
And its tastes of sunlight showers

Guilded eyes does make this cold machine
Rattle and humm
Look at what this romance has done

Tuesday 23 June 2009

Nobody Cares

Nobody cares for the boy who cries Wolf
As he sits around battling with demons in his head
He has his fathers crying sence of pride
As his mother sits on by
The truth is he has no voice to spout out
As he cries tomany times
To be taken out and heard
His mental state is closed in a cage
To maintane his cut off edges
Trimming him out of every of every picture

Because nobody cares

Nobody cares about the voices
Creeping in the outside of his head
Trying to pretrude his thoughts
And screaming let me out
As felt himself fall out
Hitting the walls with his bare fists
Bleeding the pure losses of frustration
As drops just stain his heart

Because nobody cares

Nobody Cares for someone who tries to put smiles
On the faces of others
With his quick whicked snips
Just crying out to be heard
As stumbles with words that he speaks to himself
Because no face can bare the sound of his voice
Dragging like gravel in the grounds
As the quires lock him in his room

Because nobody cares

Daddy looked on as his mummy tried to be strong
As they see their son dwindling and struggling on

Because nobody cares

Nobody cares he has no voice
As they take away his choices of how he should be
Lock him in cage and poke him with sticks
For Zoo like tricks
As the people come for the unique freak show
Of how a son wants to have power again
AND THEY JUST STARE AND POKE HIM LIKE A HUMAN BIRDCAGE

Because nobody cares

By Jeffrey Johns 24/6/2009

Monday 22 June 2009

Daddy Done Wronge!

Take it for the Morning hours
My muma will ring
And there will be stings in the tones
Just crying out of the phone
By my side
Hey son is your father done
To which I stare at daddy
Breaking in the baring dust
From emotions and trust fading
Like a collapse in confidence
As I staggered over to his side
Daddy please do not
Reside in dishonesty
Just speak the truth
I can feel myself quaking
As he grasps the phone
Whispers out a quiet hello

Dear Darling
Have you got the job done?
Not another financial bank rush
So your not washed up
With the other scum

I stare at Daddies eyes glaring
With drowning tones
As he tried to speak
With calm notes of undertones
To hide up the feelings
Of things falling to pieces
As a job was done with a splattering of blood
Swiping across the eyes
Of the nerving tides
As soon as threats come down
Daddy always resorted to guns and hounds
As he was raiding around
The jobs usually done with dads
Untide with resplendent grace
But there was something tying his face right up!

Dear Darling
Have you got the job done?
Not another financial bank rush
So your not washed up
With the other scum

I stare at Daddy as he mumbles and fumbles
And breaks after finishing on the phone
He paused pale and white and stammered in sight
Oh son what have I done
I have done something wronge
I said what Daddy? What have you done?
Oh son I have shot a man he screamed
Just to get away without cuts and scrapes
To make a clean job and a fast getaway
So please don't let your mother see me in this place
Because I done a job badly
He said trying to pack me off
With a limp in his leg
And I just stand there nodding agreeingly
As he cried out loud
I could hear the tears dripping out of his eyes
Like rivers flowing into streams

He said son getaway
You do not want to see this display
Oh Daddy why should I go away?
His eyes began to bleed frustration
And panicy sensations creep all over him
He had been in jail before
For slinging hooks with dodgy crooks
He just wanted to shut the door on his life
To pay for his undeserved feelings
Of life

Jeffrey Johns 23/6/2009

Thursday 18 June 2009

Just a Test

I feel a bit flat
Like everythings a let down
As I feel air wheeze out of myself
To the faces washed up
In the same old places
with a disgruntled look
Of what you took in the space of others
I feel the tensions running
Between my eyes
As the computer screen is blaring right out at me
With the rights of passage
Of words that we all sing and shout
In a conversation when it all falls to pieces

Just a test to see those crying hearts
Beat in those cold machines

I scower my life and wish for something better
As I wish too hold on
Without the riddled eyes of scorn
I can feel as bodies float on past me
Trudgiing in the sounds
Of look theres that idiot from the other side of town
They would smile behind the scowling farcades
Trippling out words of drawl in dust

Just a test to see those crying hearts
Beat in those cold machines

As the broken face of the clown
Is lining up on concreted ground
From the pasteral pictures of a smile
Painted in red corronettes
For this is where I slipped up
And let the pressure push me down
Unhushed tones cried like weary bones
knitting together as just stood there and frowned
Before busrting into laughter
As they burried my coffin deep into the ground

Just a test to see those crying hearts
Beat in those cold machines

This pasty face just can not speak
As everytime fell weak at the knees
And in adequacy there is something not right with me
As I can only sense people will listen
If I speak in the lines
Just don't speak about that subject
We will leave it till next time
And the time after that because we
Dont listen to you and your rats!

Just a test to see those crying hearts
Beat in those cold machines

By Jeffrey Johns 18/6/2009

Wednesday 17 June 2009

Tears over Tehran

This day is yours
When your voice is being taken away
By the lynching government
As Tehran sings for power
As the voices of the millions sower
To voices of the Ahmadinejad power
As he barks like a broken dictatorship
Using barages like battle ships

Because there's tears over Tehran
As the Iranians take to the streets
Finding their feet with their voices
Trampled into the ground

The men who crowd the streets
have their blood cut by the plods
And the battons on the ends of their rods
Screaming we want the truth
And not an abuse of our system again
So floored As they free wheeled
Their voices in pain

Because there's tears over Tehran
As the Iranians take to the streets
Finding their feet with their voices
Trampled into the ground

The governer in greed
Saw 64% percent in seed
And I can claim democrassy
For taking the voices away from the streets
So I can fix and regulate
To eyes pleasing kingdom burn up in smoke
As Mousavi pleads his case
As the Pigs lay waist to the bodies
Watching the high streets drip with blood
Of a many broken hands

Because there's tears over Tehran
As the Iranians take to the streets
Finding their feet with their voices
Trampled into the ground

So what happened to this so called democrassy?
Covered in red taped bureacrasy
As the tens of the thousands came marching
Into the towns square
Armed with their voices of as ammunition
Too battle the battalions teeth
In the front line
Falling to pieces as their blood was hacked down
By those heavy hands to control the greed

Because there's tears over Tehran
As the Iranians take to the streets
Finding their feet with their voices
Trampled into the ground

They sensed blood was in the air
As police swang battons in despair
As they sped through on mopeds
Gasing all the crowed too choke their voices
They faced the bricks and stones braking brittle bones
As they fought for their voices to be heard
Braking glass and cracking skulls
Sharade too the voices of parades

Because there's tears over Tehran
As the Iranians take to the streets
Finding their feet with their voices
Trampled into the ground

The next dictatorship has been borne

By Jeffrey Johns 18/6/09

Tuesday 16 June 2009

Monologue

"God I am bored"
Bemuse a slouched potato like figure
Glowering over his half empty pint glass
In his local pub
"I am of the way this government is running this country"
he said with a stinging tones
"I am sick of government bureaucracy
Covering up lies with gloss and dross" he scowled
"Lets face it this government
Has been leading up shit creek for a while now
and I am sick of it
This government has more in common with
Big brother then it does speaking with true politics"
He said banging his fist against the bar
"I think the only reason why
Mr brown is prime minister is because
He can get a celebritalised job where
He actually does something that gets printed in heat magazine"
He paused briefly before sifting swig off his drink
"If he was not Prime Minister
Then he would be on I'm a Celebrity Get Me out of here
Trying to bed hop like a patronizing middle class bigwit
Who's sheer desperation was to grab every penny in the photographs.
I mean I can just see it now Gordon brown
Stood next to Christopher Bigglesworth
with that crass Jordie duo ant and dec
Doing running commentry for the visually impared
Or mentally restrained" he sighed staring at the bumps
"Either way its bloody painfull
Why is it that you have to have lots of money to run a country?
I mean both labour and torries are just as bad as each other
performing habitual bitch slapping dances sucking up to their leaders
And there is the Lib dems
Who are like the political ostrich
Shoving their heads in the sand hoping someone notices them
they mas as well do elections in an X factor styling
With a mass group sing and dance off"
He smirked with a distained sense of Irony

Sunday 14 June 2009

Broken Toys

Broken toys rattle in the pram
As Mummies coughing up skag
And Daddies pulling scams
To bring the medicine man
Down too town
Just give me one pure hit of sugar
She would croak in his ear
Full of anxiety and fear
That a dependency cohurses
as the baby would scream
And her thin thin pasty skin would cream
Rattling the pram with
Her waisting wrists knotted

Broken Toys rattle in the Pram

As the puncture holes
Lay bare in her arms
And Daddies teeth wore black
Filing into holes
Of emotional blackmail
Please pull us in the pennies
So we can feed this lovely child
He would shout
With a whisky stale smell
Too everything including his
Coat amd tail
As he would spend it
On the cheap white Lightening

Broken Toys rattle in the pram

Mummy would pull all of her favoures
As she is lost on a downward spiral
Of daddies lashing out fists
For once they were a happy couple
And he cared for her heart
Just to be taken out by a menacing diseas
Leaving her with scars
On her brazen arms
Marked lumps stick out like sore thumbs
Where he had battered her
With a bass ball bat

Broken Toys rattle in the pram

The Baby is lying dirty
Untreated due to the circumstances around it
The tears of desolation
Run down the marked face
As it cries out for more touches
Of the heart to give it some warmth
As Mothers breast milk has run dry
From her lust of the Honeycombe
And the brown sugar
She wants to fix up in her life

By Jeffrey Johns 14/6/09

Saturday 13 June 2009

The Iron Man

The Iron Man is cast out
And laughed out upon its clunkyness
Haha what a mess cried the local vests
For he is made out of a hoover built in vancouver
That the foriegn legions of the braging parades
Look at what we brought too this country
And how it stayed they praved
but the locals were very vocal
about their discontent as the way of the work went
Lets blame the government and call it hell bent
As they sieged towards its learing glare
From the tin foil eyes staring just right there
With the spot lights blairing
Tinting right there
And his biscuit tin arms swing loose and thin
His amstrad vocal card jetted out
All crinkled and hard shout what going on
They locals replied this is you final song
As they armed themselves with what they thought
Were burners and axes
But even though the Locals were very vocal
They were not very focal
So instead the had superglue and sax's
Ha ha ha you are utterly displaxic
Laughed the iron man sounding like he was coming from a can
From somewhere like Budapest or Pakistan
Iam here to stay and I will put you all in play like a poker game
You see I was made of supertrue
And not that rubbish Uhu glue
Burn hime scoft the vocal local
Who were not very focal
As they tried to light the nibs of the glue tube nibs
And try and hit him
With the razor blunt sax's
This for the razing of our taxes
And our job axes the not very foccal locals screamed
Swinging and missing lumping each other in the face
What a public disgrace!

Take it as the truth

Just sit here
And take it as the truth

The sweating tears are shaking
As its been just over a year
Since I was put under
From the bread and butter knife blunder
I sit on down at the student table flinching
Into the grounds of 22 Ashton gate rd
The damien voice playing me
Like a bow and fiddle
Highly strung and tensious
As laughter is swirling outside of me
It feels like as if I am being heckled
Torn apart because I can not smile
Through the dreary tears
As the others can not uncerstand
The shakingmental situation
As I lock myself in my room
Trying to skalpal off my hair
I'm just having one of those crisises
In confidence that preludes me
And sharks bighting on the distant memmories

Just sit here
And take it as the truth

I hear a knocking on my door
And the gentle tones of a housemate
Checking up on me and my mental displacement
I find myself red raw and rampant
At my subconcious energy making me sour
They persuade me down
As the tears are flowing out
Of frustrations of who I should be
The visions of the hospital flash
Infront of me
Causing my heart and skin to flinch
And I hear the laughter of my housemate
Lament around
I cant help but feel all the jokes are about me
I warn them that I am about to snap
Because I am on the last freying thethers
Of this long hold rope
They can see my eyes bleed with tears
As the sence my insecurities
As they fleet around me
I just haver to plead
Please leave me I need to be like this

Just sit here
And take it as the truth

I know you are all trying to do a supportive job
But at these times I need to cry out
Frustration times to heal myself
From these wounding chimes
Running around in this head
I spoke to their bending ears
As they tried to help me
Rip out my hairs looking on in despair
I found my lost sense of identity
Creeping up into this unstable head
I hope you can bare with me
Because this is something I dont want to be
So please do pardom me

Thursday 11 June 2009

Break Out

Break on out
To try and not
Let those voices
Get you right on down
Even though they are
Running you on the
Same old broken grounds

When you try and find your feet
Did you find yourself tumbling on down?
Were the questions so perplexing
That you were confused beguiled
Because you kept on thinking
Like a dranged child
Running on wild
Into the grey stone haze
Dripping with a black and white memmory
Of how life used to be
Dreaming of the things
That turned to dust
With the greatest of plans
And real life scams
To earn yourself the dream
Glam dram that you ran along
With I'm a supstar shlong
For it all to go wrong

Break on out
To try and not
Let those voices
Get you right on down
Even though they are
Running you on the
Same old broken grounds

So when you lying in a pram
did you ever think you would become
Such a strangely textured man?
With insecurities that does not
Want to play on the ill of ease
I mean I can pay for you
Just don't expect me to please you
I want to be MR Sympathy
But there is a Devil in me
Just choking on my voice of prosperity
Trying to join the dots od integrity
Like badly woven fabrics
Tattered and freyed
As everything that is false
Flambed and flanked
as those mateiriel dreams seem to fade

Break on out
To try and not
Let those voices
Get you right on down
Even though they are
Running you on the
Same old broken grounds

So try and trample your feet
Make a stance oh so neat
and not at all weak at the knees
To depleet yourself
with mental illness and wealt
Standing by in shody health
just waltering in stealth!

Wednesday 10 June 2009

The Bridge

I find myself
Stood on the edge
Of this white bridge
The tears streaming on out
Of my blanket eyes
As the evening coldness
Just bights this lonesome feeling
As the crush just broke my heart

The only thing that gave me warmth
Was the waters swirling
Beneath my feet
The broken cries I give out
As desperation sweeps
Across this mind
With the voices
In my head calling out
Wanting me to jump on down
As I find myself clinging
Onto the white metal
Barriers at the edge of the Bridge

I take one stiffening breath
As the cold wind hits my face
Wondering why did I
Have to caught up in this place
And be born with a softness in heart
Thats cares
And gets burned all the time
So the coldness stains me
Picking off my hairs
As all the sense of smiling
Is drained on out
by the car crash
Of this hearts ride

If I had somebody
To give me a hug
A warmth and sensitivity to talk
Me through the mess in my head
Pulling on these lonesome voices
The heart strings sting
As I was bent over the edge
Because I had fallen
For bambi's eyes
Which drove like a stake into me

This cold heart just beats
Its final tones
A stair at the swirling undertones
The only sign of warmth
Is coming from the river bed
As I can see the only smiles
Fall on your face
When I am burried in box
with a six foot bed enclaved
So I wave bye bye
And take the final step
to cast myself away from this stress

Maybe there is something better for me
If I open the door
From this great hight
Would there be something of supprising
As I feel the voices try an talk me out
But all I can hear are
Ones of self doubt
Like the monsterous
person that I can be

So let me will out
And take my final bow
As the curtain are calling
For met me to fall on out!

by Jeffrey Johns 10/6/09

Tuesday 9 June 2009

Boyband

Your so cool
And not at all a fool
People would scream
At the latest teen idols
Flashing blazen clean
On the front covers of the magazines
Only to be rejected
By the spontainious redials
As the boy bands fans
Haud like swelling glands
Crushing with stampedes
Of trippling feet
To greet the false dawning
Of pomposity
Miming with all to well
Timed senses of perfection
As the same old spokes
of the overly oild machine
As everything seemed to gleam
With a deadly unrealistic sheen
Oh you have to be so keen
To look at me with any kind of disparatee
For in reallity we are just weeded out
Glamour rags with no personality
I mean look at this glossy magazine
And turn to page 17
For there is picture
Of me with the queen
Feeling so prestine
As his eyes would shimmer
A reflective repartee
And the family friendly feed
They would put on as armoury
To defend thee
To hide the thrift reallity
Dawning choruses of oh look at me
Don't I look good in tweed
Oh waht a perspective to have
When your downing rights
10 street thunder
And no that is not me
Blundering out of the club
Sucking upto pigs
For the sweets of what was
Once Top Of the Pops jamboree
From the clanging sounds of Jimmy Savill
To the 90's separtee
Of the two step dance moves
We repeat with irony
So come put a smile on our faces
For we are pop pickers tastes
As we are dancing along
Tony Blakburns face
With a gleam and glammour
Of the TV streams
Live audience kick and stream
With bloody mass tears
As their pop idols come fallin
Crashing out of their heavenly air!

9/6/2009

Sunday 7 June 2009

Watch your Streets

Watch these streets
Ther maybe BNP seats
With all their candidates
Running up with grease
Like nast insects
With itching bights
are hiding our sights
For racism is what we want
They all huff and puff
For the fight of the White Mans plight
Only to find out
We are all really imigrants
Just like the other types
You see how can we irradicate
Something this country has been built on
With its rich history
Of invasions and vacuous glee
That will always wilt the BNPs party pollicies
For they are really nasty boned thugs
working like a machine
To spread eagle disparatee
A bit like Nazi pollicy
Running through their blood
Slap their bitches
And treat them rough
Only tender on equal terms
To those of the same point of view
Or blood as you
Your old views on
How we should view
Those of other clothes
Not wanting to give in
To those with differents skins
because they have no belongings
They would chuinder and sing
With the sounds of stinging
Fists of glory ringing

So Fuck the BNP
And their nationalistic views
which really are very skewed
Out of date and lewed
As barrell clenching teeth
Scower like dodgy security guards
Up for a fight
As they claim to be in the right
And we are in the wrong
For letting others sing our songs
Settles and belong

So watch your streets
As they maybe BNP seats
So when you go and vote
In your polling stations
Then sing your voice
And make the right choice
Just don't be brought in
By their whips and their stings
Of their false presentings
Being nice and clean
Because they are really
Vile human beings

The Nightmares Of The Girl Next Door

Take down the burning woods
brake and burn off the old memmories
The girl next door in broken skin
From tortures of sado masacism
The young son falls
For her gentle charm

The nightmares are flowing
Back into his eyes
Of the memmories of the girl next door

Her owner strang her
up against the walls
Stretching her naked flesh
With the skin singing
As the burning ropes
Tightened on her wrists and her ankles
And th haunted aunts words
Would rattle out
As young son Davey began to scream and shout
as her sister is abused
With the brothers standing in line

The nightmares are flowing
Back into his eyes
Of the memmories of the girl next door

Her aunt straddles her
Against the wire bed
There is only one thing darling
Boys want you for
Thats the spot between your legs
That make you the draw
But if you open it up
Then it will make you a whore
As the boys have a go one by one
As her her poorly beaten sister
Stares onwards and glum

The nightmares are flowing
Back into his eyes
Of the memmories of the girl next door

She used to paint
Beautiful pictures of swirling colour
Her cuts are brazen
From the sheer wieght of the sheefs
Looks at this boys
She is doing us down
Lets punish her for
Bringing the policeman around
And lets whip her sister
for the sheer petulance

The nightmares are flowing
Back into his eyes
Of the memmories of the girl next door

Now Davey is spent at his desk
Sniffing the seconds
Of his cold dry Whisky
Staring at the the unscrabbled
Picture of colours
As he unfirls the memmories
Of torturing nightmares
Drawing on tears
Amongst the banks of the crab fished rivers
Where stumbling they met
On a warm summers day

The nightmares are flowing
Back into his eyes
Of the memmories of the girl next door

The pain is plastered across his face
As the tear stained wood
Is riddled with knots
So no one can claim
To know what pain is
As Davey sips the drifts
Of the whisky washed air
Swigging the Whisky washed air
Shedding the memmories off his blood
Holding back th barrackings
In the hidden circumstances
Where not a peep was heard
Until the scars she bore were refreshed
No one believes a little boys voice
as they all think he is crying wolf

Thursday 4 June 2009

The Crush

Oh sunshine give me hope
That there is a fire that
I can stoke
The flames of a smile are lasting
Whilst thick clouds
are drawing in
So where should I begin
With a story so perplexing
A smile
A stare with a glare
To you over there
With fair brown hair
And a body to spare
with whispers of almost debonair
Complexion of skin
Bronzed and singed
A gentle sensiousness in touch
A blushing rippling feeling
Does wash me up and down
Lifting the furrowed brow
With a smile to endour
With a warmth that
I hope does not sour
God I don't mean
To be sounding dour

You said that I always made you smile
But I can't help but feel
That I cramp all your styles
You make me feel miles high
With my heart pumping like a stye
From the rubber eyed youth
And slender mis-abuse
Because you think you are so obtuece
But you have nothing to fear
because you will always be enedeared
By a warmth of atmosphere
Please take me anywhere but here dear
Because I cant help but stear
My sight into the plushing eye
Of your face
Shining plumped lips pushing
as you breath words
Of image concerns
As you said you wanted a washboard stumach
You did mo care for Annorexic dispair
Because no phillipino masses
Have ounces of fat on their lasses

Its hard to look good
And not be mis-understood
By those of opposite sex's
Burning hexes
Of charicterizations of
How others judge you
For their enjoyments
And the avante caring
For the one thing
The addictiveness of compulsion
Crushes and urges
Brings on this hearts
With a romeo clanging in the head
Just wanting to spittle out
Words that are tumbling out
With a vile sound
Of a shafted quickness
And quivering pounding
Oh my god!
My skin is shrowding to the blunderous
Blushing tones of a beetroot Red
As she stared smiling
with white valed teeth
This has almost scary intent
I want to ask her one big thing
Will she?
Do You?
in fractuous moments
Where one hopes something will happen
To spread the possitivity
Or leave me in the usual heart break and dispree

Free the Crow

Sat in the cage
The crow just sqwarked
The repressive voices
Did the million man marches
Of self expression
Get diluted to fit in
With todays mamouth marathons
Of cultural exclusion
Asthe scary truths
We put upon another type
He said hitting his beak
Against the wire of the cage
Rattling him with rage
And I could see his tears
Roll on down his feather tarred up skin
I have been through the battles
And this is the respect that I get
He said featheringthe wire bars
Holding him with castration
Just as I stand and stare listening in

So free me now
And open up this cage
Because I need to flex these wings

I mean is it really freedom
If I am sat here in a cage
Being poked at by sticks or mornacades
For the gazing hauds
To hound my very image
Holding down this voices
to stereotype mimic and swipe
He crowed as I just stand here
Watching him fleet
Shuffling his across the wire
And onto the swing
He had a certain menace about him
With the scard up legs
Folding on his balance
And with one eye bleeding
These are my wounds
From masters whips and chains

So free me now
And open up this cage
Because I need to flex these wings

So I open up the cage
which was a mesh of blood nad wire
Interlocking my fingers
To pull it apart
With loud screams
I hear coming out
Out of his beaks
quivering tones of frustrations
And reliefe as the trap door
Of his life opend
Wide up to his eyes
I never thought I would see the day
When this crow could speak
With out the walls of wires
Closing me in
He sqwarked edgily
As he hobbled out
To the bright lights of the world outside
As he flew out of the cage
Shone with with a blackened velvet
Feel as he flapped his broken wings
Thanking me for de-chaining his slavoury
And giving him a right to be

So free me now
And open up this cage
Because I need to flex these wings

Monday 1 June 2009

On The Spot

So waiting here
For the curtain to drop
I feel my heart pulversing
With nervous drops
As sweat bleeds out
Of my head and my hands
I stand here like a withered man
As I open up my vocal glands
For nothing to really stand

As the curtains are flung open
I feel a never ending circus
Of desperation
Cradling frantic thoughts
As I try to think clearly
With the braking black cloud
Luminating in my head
As I can see eyes peering perilously
With the voices of go on idiot
Make us laugh
Make us heave and half
With your fat anecdotes
On which we know you will choke

The lights I can feel
Blazing on my forehead
Pointing to random things
As people become objectives
Of ear peeling perspectives
As I cant help but feel
Myself ranting out of control
Because all you want to hear
Is jokes from the fat mans lear
And self repressed thoughts
Of manic depressive saunts
as voices argue and riddle and toll
God we must destroy
This baron empty soul

I feel myself battling
With all good will
but there is something making it ill
As braldy man steps up
With a knife in his hand
I can see a fear in his eyes
Ready to rip me to shrides
His eyes beam a hollow light
As he reaches out with fright
Grabbing my head from the lights
And wheelding the knife
He screams down you go
Good bye to your life
Rest up in the levans
Of pain and strife
Because we dont want to
Hear about your Life

Empty Smile

Empty smiles rattle on the vacant bottles
That lined her walls
The E marked pills
That she tried to choke
In her vulnerable state
As the Medication ran to the psychiatrists chair
Picking out questions
From her unwound chest
Of tears that stained her face
Of desolate smiles
Echoed with the papering up cracks
That splinter all the shells

Because my My friend
You have got to smile
So show your teeth
And mine will break another day

Her bent on head
Dangled down the drains
As she was puking all the frustrations again
Haunting ramifications left
Unburdoning sense of disapointment
As the doctors perscriptions
Rattle around redundantly
She handed out the nails
In screams for help
Her withered voice
Just gushed out empty smiles

Because my My friend
You have got to smile
So show your teeth
And mine will break another day

In the shadow
She lay her broken smile
And wrapped it up in a stone cold box
The lid that marked her out
Swept her voice under the carpet
With a million trodden voices
That brake out for the spooked words
Calling the heart that she beat
Under false pretentions

Because my My friend
You have got to smile
So show your teeth
And mine will break another day

Hiding it all
In her thickend smiles
Around the softend faces
Her fading pale lit eyes
Ring out with the nervouse stride
In comforting walls of pain
The strains that she would
Bring the knives to the table
And burn her skin
Till the roses trickle red

Because my My friend
You have got to smile
So show your teeth
And mine will break another day