Thursday, June 30, 2005

Bubblegum World

Paleness comes in two shades
I picked the wrong one up for myself
The earth behind me begins to shake
While I am already feeling broken
Cannot differentiate
Between whats real and whats for sale
The world is turning into a market place
I see you standing in the line every day

Hey
Turn around
I am a slave to your love
I am going down
Help me change my fate
Everybody’s standing
While I am falling down
Down down and I am falling down
Deeper and deeper
Through the hole
I make my way
To the unknown

My heart weighs a ton now
My heads open for anyone to mess
Money seems to be no cure
I choose a sickness , its so pure
Medicate me , I cant breathe
Sleep on dust and my own sweat
The world is turning into a market place
I see you standing in the line everyday

Hey
Turn around
I am a slave to your love
I am going down
Help me change my fate
Everybody’s standing
While I am falling down
Down down and I am falling down
Deeper and deeper
Through the hole
I make my way
To the unknown

You have time to kill
You fail and in stead you kill my will
I take time to hide
You save yours for another lie

Everybody's standing
While I am falling down
Down down and I am falling down
Deeper and deeper
Through the hole
I make my way
To the unknown

Paleness comes in two shades
I picked the wrong one up for myself
Trust and security are on sale
i see myself standing in the line everyday

Sunday, June 26, 2005

The Velvet Thorns Of Dirgenpale

Six strings of darkness on a guitar melancholy
I watch the mountains where the frost begins
The southern storm is rising , guiding me
To the forest , the genesis of resurrection

Silently the nightbirds fly
Their last scream , my eternal dirge
Under a pale full moon , a funeral of a soul
In the forest , the end of time

Still I walk with open wounds
The fourth is now rising
Through the ashes of a dying love
A new soul and a machine is born

Tall are the shadows that dance before me
Horned master now screaming with lust for blood
His final screams empower the dawn
The forest of resurrection , condemmed to sorrow

Chasing the wind
Like a spirit fly
Through the autumn trees
I ride towards the sky
Hoofs are pounding
In the clouds above
The chariot of sorrow
Watch me die

Feel the screams
So sad and blackened
Like a haunting breeze
The songs of Dirgenpale
Dream of the queen
The queen of roses

Now I am stealing her body and taking it home
My soul is on fire and all her lies have been shown

I must die
Through the sky
The forest of resurrection

Follow the wind
Ride south my child
The purest of winters
The darkest of feelings
The forest that never ends
There you’ll find your fate

And to the south I rode on the coldest of winds
I watched the mountains where the frost begun
No whisper or sight of the angels
Where death is all mine

At last I found the Throne of Bereavement
Grim and bleak raised to the sky
The Velvet Thorns Of Dirgenpale are mine
And so are death and solitude

In the garden of ice
My final sacrifice
In the trees my voice remains
Always calling , forever fading

Six strings of darkness on a guitar melancholy
Flowing tunes across the icy sky
The southern storm rests , keeps me
Tied into the forest , a slave of resurrection

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Grunge hat and a pair of Bohemian shoes--- The Irresistible outfit

All that was green and good once
is slowly turning into sand
just like the days slip
as the sun begins to fall asleep
yet i am wide awake
awake with nothing of interest
gloomy dark shadows creep across my wall
covering the acid proof bricks
while a roaring ball of lava
rolls over reality
until nothing's left but to quit and forfeit

watching trains and planes go by
the emptiest of feelings
with one eye i spit out the flames
and with the other i swallow the dust
she told me i could turn around
see the light but just for a while
i could not move
i had my eyes fixed into the swarming crowd
i had my mind fixed into her silk eyes
her eyes were swaying all around

have i gone too far away
to reach nowhere?
or am i still right here
with lack of care?


Friday, June 03, 2005

Above the ceiling,Under the roof

At all times I need
A brief glimpse
An opening in the midst of
An incongruous landscape
A glint of flashes in the fog
A dialogue of two passerby meeting in a crowd
That has a name or not
And I think that
Setting out from there
I will put together
Piece by piece
The perfect city
Made from the fragments
Of what is mixed up
But yet esoteric and with the rest
Of instants
Seperated by intervals
Of signals one sends out
Not knowing who receives them
Never knowing who sends them .

All these thoughts in my head last just as long as a cigarette or a coffee or a chocolate cookie or a five minute orgasm.
Its like you smoke the bud , drink your coffee , eat your cookie and cum till the fun just stops , you wake up in the morning you go for your fucking work , the same old mundane whether you enjoy it or you don’t , It is still fucking mundane. That is it , end of the fucking list .

I am not the only one
Having a utopia wrapped inside and around my head,
But then there pops in your head , not like a light bulb but a ray of darkness through which you can partially and fully see : the meaning of “life” .

But then again imagine living in a place you have absolutely zilch issues.
I would probably commit suicide .