Frosty da snowman
Bluelighter
Flip it into the morning
Draft these feral wings
Angles breath and forsaken flight
Standing on a cliff’s edge Thor’s hammer and an earthquake begging the mystic to jump
It’s like this on the foreign days
Obscene images disjointed thoughts and a microphone tied to the hand
The open dialogue only the stars can hear
Hollywood boulevard window is open
Red light players at the window sill
Dealers whores and taggers the crowd
Forgotten lullabies and sex the poetry of the times
Spoken words on the head of a needle
Struck down and sewn in
The lost biblical verses of 8:00 pm tribe
It’s like that on the odd days
What you remember ands real and old yeller wasn’t shot
Walking forest bound with Bambi’s mother
And the young prince prance twilight
You’ve forgotten what it was like to be a member of the loser tribe
Odd words in the memory
And just a little to little to drink
So you walk in memory
And tell it to Elmo
The little child of yester year next door
So you walk till morning and speak to the fog
Then inhale it all in the next minute
So you walk to the doors and ring bells on foreign shores
And wonder will anybody answer?
Draft these feral wings
Angles breath and forsaken flight
Standing on a cliff’s edge Thor’s hammer and an earthquake begging the mystic to jump
It’s like this on the foreign days
Obscene images disjointed thoughts and a microphone tied to the hand
The open dialogue only the stars can hear
Hollywood boulevard window is open
Red light players at the window sill
Dealers whores and taggers the crowd
Forgotten lullabies and sex the poetry of the times
Spoken words on the head of a needle
Struck down and sewn in
The lost biblical verses of 8:00 pm tribe
It’s like that on the odd days
What you remember ands real and old yeller wasn’t shot
Walking forest bound with Bambi’s mother
And the young prince prance twilight
You’ve forgotten what it was like to be a member of the loser tribe
Odd words in the memory
And just a little to little to drink
So you walk in memory
And tell it to Elmo
The little child of yester year next door
So you walk till morning and speak to the fog
Then inhale it all in the next minute
So you walk to the doors and ring bells on foreign shores
And wonder will anybody answer?
