Aritst's Song

For the longest time, I didn't know why I wrote this. I think it's apparent now to me, it's about me and my little sis, and very very very slight co-dependence. We are two very independent people, but we lean on each other at times. It's also about despair. I wrote it to fight perfectly with David Bowies, Life On Mars

It’s a stale wooden taste

The quenching revulsion in her face

Searching in the faintness shining place

In the smallest black hole in outer space

And now her love can never be replaced

Stuck in the strings of this haze

And the moon is in its untimely phase

And she ponders the beauty of its gaze

But restless under the light

Even a moonbeam can’t ease her night

It in fact confuses her sight

As she looks upon

Dead Gods

Lost in a gray snap

Their bones

Still never erode

If their stories are told

And she sees the

Artists

Write another song

Best wish

If he could get not get it wrong

Have everyone sing along

On the Artist’s Song

Balanced on his wavering self esteem

Emotional context not as firm as it seems

Loose knots on his weakest seams

As the sun burns the tether with its beams

It’s blazes right into his outlandish dreams

With his most unadorned thoughts staggering

Still his hands contracts when he strums his keys

Pouring down on his joy and misery

But in lyrical amazing light

Even this simple song can’t ease his night

In fact is confuses his sight

As he looks upon

Dead Gods

Lost in a gray snap

Their bones

Still never erode

If their stories are told

And he is the

Artists

Writing another song

Best wish

If he could get not get it wrong

Have everyone sing along

On the Artist’s Song