Browsed by
Month: April 2008

::: Crimson Saints :::

::: Crimson Saints :::

the crimson saints are singing
painting sins upon their knees
confessing your name to all
you made me your dirty queen

but your testimony left me dry
no iron cross can protect me now
your faerie bread gone to dust
rouge my lips with your wine

unsought thirst for redemption
begged baptism to wash you off
your faith lay between the sheets
while I was hanging from crosses

::: Dreaming of You :::

::: Dreaming of You :::

why call to me again?
wake me from my slumber
I was dreaming of you
though I shouldn’t

when the other option
is nightmares of death
I’d rather you steal by
though I shouldn’t

I’m told to hate you
and not to forgive
then I’d let you win
though I shouldn’t

I want to forget us
to sleep without fear
of my memories waking
though I shouldn’t

::: Pride :::

::: Pride :::

with your ugly vanity
admirer of no heart
unusual, you say but
my belief is seldom
accostomed to pity

your ghosts haunt me
but follow you to the bus
books fall open by them
useless with knowledge
rusting your truths

arrows will slay Cupid
pathetic spectre fades
you love your jealousy
guarded righteousness
please don’t lie to me

your bare cruelty fails
burned by your mirror
call me your other name
I will not answer again
fallen from your pride

::: Song Writer :::

::: Song Writer :::

scratch my tongue and hear my song
fall beside me with your laughing eyes
there’s spaces in my head you can’t fill
not even your ghosts can find the corners
please play a part in my love forever

my life follows after the shadowing sun
like a flower blooming ever outwards
I climb landscapes of words and music
tangling myself into what you used to be
lost forever is the conviction of time

your name is pounding through my ears
it slips between my lips and I taste you
meaningless notes are torn from the soul
our pores bleeding joy in lieu of hope
you stain my heart with your good cheer

::: Stone :::

::: Stone :::

concrete heart
with these stolen shoes
something I forgot to say
a modern mess of truth
just dying to believe in
wooden gods that crucify
hang me from your tree

so turn me away
I’m still made of stone
like the gods you’ve denied
could you still love me
though I am cold and gray
I could be your gravestone
will you lay under me?