In the Morning

She could kill him, she thought

Though she hadn’t really wanted that very long.

Not long enough to have thought about it, really.

Until just now this very moment.

The simplicity of it all amazed her.

She couldn’t believe it could be true.

A dozen ways, a hundred ways

Flooded her thoughts with the beauty of the kill.

She was coming very close.

Obsessed, walking on air.

But it was late and in her sleep,

She hoped that she would dream of this.

In the morning she could never remember her dreams.

It’s Not What You Said

It’s not what you said, but how you said it.

Clear as day, honing in on the issue.

Your words like a tonic, taking the sting out

But something is missing and I can’t really say what.

It’s not what you said, but how you said it

Your voice is a song, whispering sweetly

A terrible lullaby, relentless and soothing

Soft as the circles your language travels.

It’s not what you said, but how you said it.

It’s not what you said, but how you said it.

It’s not what you said, but how you said it

I see the reward in following your logic.

Straight as an arrow, straight through the heart.

Sharp as a knife, and twice as deadly.

Pile It On

He’s already dead. Don’t be fooled by the stringent denial,

He’s left his head back in bed and it’s laughing all the time.

He says I’m as hard as nails and I can take anything just wait and see

He says I’m stronger than six inch steel. I won’t bend, I won’t break.

He’s already dead. Don’t be fooled by those twitching limbs,

They can move of their accord. He’s without a direction.

He’s lost his will in a maze of propriety.

Anti Socialist II

He said what’s the matter? You don’t like new people?

Well they put me on edge, and I could go either way.

I’m an anti-socialist.

I don’t like the danger. There’s no thrill of victory.

Bad judgment follows me, won’t give me rest.

I’m an anti-socialist.

I want fix ‘em with my bare hands

And I’m trying not to lose control.

I’m fighting the urge, and I’m trying not to lose control

I want to fix ‘em with my bare hands.

Hole In My Eye

There’s a hole in my eye, where the light brings in visions of you.

This hole in my eye can be invaded.

Rolling my eyes is one of many defenses.

This hole in my eye can be invaded only when I’m looking straight at you.

There’s a hole in my lie, where the truth bites hard.

I’m naked again.

This hole in my lie is disconcerting. Takes me to a place where I can’t say no ‘cause

The standard reply bites it tongue there, and I can’t get back on steady ground.

There’s a hole in my life, that’s deep and dry, and can’t be filled.

This hole in my life fills my world up and I am alone and I’ve always known it.

Life is a drag race with death and you know who always gets the checkered flag.

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