timelinezero
03-04-2010, 06:07 PM
Sleeping with my eye open, braille gone stale on my bumpy tongue
wading in a shark infested ocean, they taste so much better when they're fresher, fatter, and young
with a bent bone that never broke, and a blackhole that'll never patch
a raw itch that'll never scratch, a cracked egg that'll never hatch
it's just me, and my friend me, sitting on a finger snap
breeze blown tree shivers, flown the coop in a cous
across once long lost epitaphs of languages
byzantine monoliths, sand blasted, sunsoaked, imprisoned by the hours
grizzly monuments to preservation, in the pulpits, and particles
of a lennen coated pine box, clammering to catch back up with the hands of the clock
Oh, yes I'm wide awake, and my belly quakes
livid in my slumber, too tired to take knee
falling on the sword, feeding on the chords, of the melody
in all the helpless voices caught beneath my three mountainous roars
dreaming little dreams, sleeping little sleep, a hush comes down now
washes over them with bigger whiter teeth
"keep quiet or the giant will eat us all
little babies, full grown children, even the adults"
chilling silence befalls their lonely soveriegn cry
"But, we want to pierce you in the eye!"
then let sleeping giants lie.
Touch is as decietful as youth
it's not so true, or it's not true, and nothing's more the truth.
wading in a shark infested ocean, they taste so much better when they're fresher, fatter, and young
with a bent bone that never broke, and a blackhole that'll never patch
a raw itch that'll never scratch, a cracked egg that'll never hatch
it's just me, and my friend me, sitting on a finger snap
breeze blown tree shivers, flown the coop in a cous
across once long lost epitaphs of languages
byzantine monoliths, sand blasted, sunsoaked, imprisoned by the hours
grizzly monuments to preservation, in the pulpits, and particles
of a lennen coated pine box, clammering to catch back up with the hands of the clock
Oh, yes I'm wide awake, and my belly quakes
livid in my slumber, too tired to take knee
falling on the sword, feeding on the chords, of the melody
in all the helpless voices caught beneath my three mountainous roars
dreaming little dreams, sleeping little sleep, a hush comes down now
washes over them with bigger whiter teeth
"keep quiet or the giant will eat us all
little babies, full grown children, even the adults"
chilling silence befalls their lonely soveriegn cry
"But, we want to pierce you in the eye!"
then let sleeping giants lie.
Touch is as decietful as youth
it's not so true, or it's not true, and nothing's more the truth.