Aideki
(?)Community Member
Offline
- Posted: Wed, 17 Nov 2004 07:35:55 +0000
I'm sick on today
The same old thing as yesterday
Revulsion and pale skin
Stagnant water
To which they push me in
I shudder... I shake
I try not to wake
But the alarm clock smacks me up side the head
Twirling 'round and 'round to no end
So, is this our doom, my friend?
The coffee in my over used cup shivers
Ripples like circles and today's routine
I can't get this out of my mired mind
We're so precise, marching, a machine
Ugh, I think it's killing me
The water drips from the rusting faucet
Like seconds of our lives down the drain
It's hypnotizing and captively horrifying
But it dulls out this pulsating pain
Fill up your glass with chlorine again
Then chug down prosac as if it were life
The irony in it all as you smile and say,
"Hell, it's better than the knife."
I can't help but feel soporific
This algetic world dancing to apathetic beats
Where we swim in puddles of piss
And lay to sleep in morphine-drenched sheets
The little children play in circles
And I hear their laughter every day
Wind whips willows on over blown rock
Trying to wisp what can't be taken away
The same old thing as yesterday
Revulsion and pale skin
Stagnant water
To which they push me in
I shudder... I shake
I try not to wake
But the alarm clock smacks me up side the head
Twirling 'round and 'round to no end
So, is this our doom, my friend?
The coffee in my over used cup shivers
Ripples like circles and today's routine
I can't get this out of my mired mind
We're so precise, marching, a machine
Ugh, I think it's killing me
The water drips from the rusting faucet
Like seconds of our lives down the drain
It's hypnotizing and captively horrifying
But it dulls out this pulsating pain
Fill up your glass with chlorine again
Then chug down prosac as if it were life
The irony in it all as you smile and say,
"Hell, it's better than the knife."
I can't help but feel soporific
This algetic world dancing to apathetic beats
Where we swim in puddles of piss
And lay to sleep in morphine-drenched sheets
The little children play in circles
And I hear their laughter every day
Wind whips willows on over blown rock
Trying to wisp what can't be taken away
