This’ll be In My Pocket
I was standing moments away from saving grace, and saving face,
I heard that whole chorus of angels sing, down below, above my head.
When your voice shocked open these heavy eyelids, I forgot how to cry.
I forgot how much I had wanted to die.
You lift me up with your laugh. You clear a dreary day with just a smile.
You pin me down with your silence, but it is still all worth the while.
But I am a ghost. I am an illusory toast to all the choices no one should ever make.
Stand me up, and watch me just crumble back down, without movement or sound.
I’ll eclipse the sun if we both just sit and watch time track me like a hound.
Don’t make a sound. Don’t make a sound.
Life is bleeding all around.
Look what you’ve found. Look what you’ve found.
Lovely vases made to be smashed into the ground.
I think that maybe, perhaps, it’s starting to get to me,
That my screams are only heard in the present tense.
I think that maybe, perhaps, it’s starting to get to me,
That there are maybe, perhaps, secrets I can’t sense.
Now I am completely crushed under the vast weight of distant stars.
It’s my version of wasting my strength crawling to the last of the open bars.
If the winds of severance grant me one last whisper it would be to tell you of,
These feelings I have for you, my love.
I wanna live like thunder, and die like poetry.
I wanna live in love with you as long as love lets me live this life.
Then I’m gonna make my exit with the red gleam of a knife.
I wanna live like thunder, and die like poetry.
I wanna be the most beautiful mess you have ever seen.
Then I’m gonna make my exit with the red gleams,
And streams of crimson ribbons flowing gently with the white,
To the sounds of science fiction paradise locust cries.
I’m still standing moments away from saving grace, but losing face.
I still hear the sirens singing lovelies from the pyre.
But I want to hear your voice lull me gently, cause I am so tired.
I wanna love you till I expire.
I’m gonna love you till I expire.
