Saturday, April 23, 2005

Grey Machine

On the side of the house.
Its burned in the ground.
That secret code.
That signal go.
There's a stain on the grass
That's calling us home
You lie inside for the
Transistor send.
My heart skips a beat.
Lie blinded.
Out of reach.
Out of touch.
Out of ink.
Out of kindness
Never hazing new guys.
Out of teeth.
Out of thought.
Out of time.
Out of life
Like cattle grazing.
Your mind.
On the way to the car.
On the of the stone.
On the edge of the lake.
On the end of the joke.
On the crack of the floor
On the slab of the day.
On the dent of the face.
On the mind of the cop.
On the scar of the rat.
On the last of the calls.
On the rest of the doc.
On the smile of the kid.
Pick me up.
Take me home.
Get me out of here.
Please.
On the underside i'm letting go...
they know were on to them.
we know to avoid - their snare
they're pulling us back
we run for cover
escape is far
i'm letting go...
its scaring me
break...
i'm gonna break...

Posted by camden :: 4/23/2005 08:06:00 PM :: 0 Comments:

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