Twisted higher than before
the rope it holds you ever more
keeps you knocking on my door
keeps me always feeling sore
twisted once again
higher than within
a different colored sin
pastels to that black again
keeps you always wanting it
twisted higher than before
breaking off what isn’t torn
everything in place
you know I crave the taste

Relaxing things

Blue blossoms and dreams
such nice relaxing things
demons don’t tread
don’t hear the words not said
red is for blood
and purple for the roses
everything is fine here
everything is clear
we float to the sky dear
we float all the way
we won’t come back down
no safety is where we stay
where everything is silence
everything is clear
don’t be speaking lies
don’t be so damn near

What dreams are

Dreams are made of fire
burning bright and out of time
dreams are candy coated
pinks and purples on a plate
everything is burning
sugar clouds become the flames
the sky all lit in technicolor
amber threads of sweet delay
dreams are made of silver pillows
golden sheets in disarray
dreams are made of glass
and they shatter just as easy
when everything’s in plastic
it’s hard to go to sleep


Everything is colorful
everything is dust
rainbows made of marigolds
clouds all made of rust
the sky is painted bitter
but that just makes it green
a little bit of candy
ribbons made of bees
everything is wonderful
everything is bright
balloons made of clown noses
and streamers made of teeth
everything is colorful
especially when it bleeds.

what we have here

Lighter is better
better is pure
white is the holy
true evil is stirred
black as the berry
of sweetest fruit
cognac and menthols
we love reboots
privilege is power
the secret has grew
grew like the ignorance
that taught you to move
move with emotion
and without thought
you see dancing monkey’s
and misread the plot
lighter is better
if skins what you want
your mind went somewhere
somewhere beer is not
your mind is racist
why isn’t that clear?
you see whatever you want it to be
gorilla is racist
and so is watermelon
because you think black people
even when they haven’t been mentioned.

Bubbles make the world go round

Bubbles pop
and then they ooze
drop that acid that turns blue
everything is crystal clear
drive into the diamonds
the red pool near
bubbles pop
and then there’s fire
purple flames that burn the tires
as we drive down blackest road
the bubbles pop
the world explodes

Cosmic clarity

Thrust the pieces into space
the crimson cords of transference
the process of the fluid breathe
the connection to our hearts
and yet
the stars burn bright-apart the threads
our bodies cast to cosmic strips
the blue of blood
the pink of flesh
the ultimate show off opulence