I feel computers’ heart down in my chest
its beat as low and level as a Monday morning
its digital command of visors in my head
as perfect as a neatly staged religious mourning
Locally Blown Up
my world is being shattered to peices
by cold seated deep in your heart
in a chest where nothing is beating
still something is ready to start
Wish I Were Spring
I wish I grew as fast as grass
In the wake of midday sun
To clean my blades and draw my guns
And blind thee with my eyes of glass
Edge Of 17 Movie
You think you're different
A story of make-believe
Still waiting for something
Sure you're going to commit
Seaside. Sunshine. Ocean's touch.
Life is balancing to and fro.
You've forgotten so very much.
You've forgotten to live, little bro.