The Wishing Well

Forefathers
Breathing and panting
Narrowing their searing glares onto you and everyone else they wish to see
Like a dome covering all of this existence
From a distance but out in the open if you really try to educate yourself
With fangs in solitude
They are hunting for refreshment of youth
This is why they want you
Like an experiment inside a wishing well
Tossing silver coins and never receiving
Why do we not just stop wishing and try?
Make the dreams become life in time
Then we would all see smiles on our faces
All of them...
and let the miserable bury themselves in boredom and fools gold
Because they don't need it and neither should you
I know I would do anything to try to get a glimpse of truth

Where have I been?

So apparently I haven't posted in FAR to long and thought while I was at work and on my break... Why the hell not. Basically Ive been working every day, 8 hour days at a call center called Resolve in Bells Corners. I'm working for AT&T for their premier customer branch upgrading peoples silly little technological trinkets. Fucking people let me tell you... I'm thinking about writing a short novel about life in a call center and about my misadventures before, during, and after work playtime. I have also been writing a ton of music with my good, whole hearted, Irish bastard of a friend Seamus in a project we call I'm Indonesia. Two new songs and here are the lyrics...More writing soon to come...Enjoy!

A Trip To Nubia

Inside light I'm trying to find the voice behind the fading lines
Fear awake in the smallest of space and the temporary steps we all will take
Far gone
Alone
On the journey
The touch of a voice bellow guides the legs to the depths of the soul
My memories will fade with what is left of the whole
In the gaze of the century
As we fall down
As we all fall down
From the ground with intention
So escape
From the wake of this lunacy that's been cast upon me
Closer and closer
Sidewalks are winding
Motions of choosing
Feet grasp the edge
You stood there sleeping and I sat down watching
You kept on falling
You kept on falling...

Nightling

This old house is crying out and you my dear,
You sure know how it feels
Its strong, its pure, and its fleeting.
It wants to make an impression upon you
So think this through
What they want they'll take it from you
Nightling...
With your old, smooth eyes
Where have you been on these cold winter nights?
Has midnight averted your rhythmic, sensual cool?
To glow that bright with a kiss from the moon...

www.myspace.com/weareindonesia