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| sulphur smells are never so swell as the eruptions that are sure to follow
like a corruption that swallows us whole or lava's firery flow,
but as far as we dinosaurs go this only means extinction,
and such distinctions as these have simply brought us to our knees
we're in a forest where we cant see the trees and these are just warning signs
and lines demarcating, delineating, aggravating, and enervating us and our situations
patience is what is required because even after all the experts we've hired
we're still tired and lumbering stumbling half awake towards some little expected fate
which is great, unless like us your ill adapted, trapped in a changed world
that no longer supports your massive and tragic reptilian frame
which is a shame because the fame we would receive from those who believe
would put all those robot and mechanical dinosaurs out of work
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| Zip Bang Bam Boom Bang Bang Blam
This is who we are This is who I am
Zip Bang Bam Boom Bang Bang Blam
This is where I've been This is where I am
Zip Bang Bam Boom Bang Bang Blam
This is what it is This is what I am
Zip Bang Bam Boom Bang Bang Blam | | |
| when the things in our head are said
somehow they'll become more real
we'll steal them back if only we could
but wait... a sylable, a sound, a sentance... too late
the damage is done and no one has won
lost... but the frost of sillence keeps us safe
frozen fast locked in the cold where no one is bold
yet in our heads these words burn to be said
not so hot as to matter perhaps it dosen't
so here lets turn... stop... discern | | |
| barn doors swinging away/ i wait in the wind until that day/ when the wilder winds will come and i then will begin to hum/ to a new and not-so novel tune with notes that cause our souls to swoon/ we collapse but perhaps only under the weight of something so great/ a beauty so fine, divine, sublime, that while we're here we can't quite find/ the words, sounds, or symbols to describe or define in a manner worthy/ that which we'll one day see and be surrounded by; i cry/ when after long hours of contemplation i with glorious expectation/ do consider what is to come and in sum all with which i am left is.../ ...tears of joy. | | |
| so here you are
and there i was
where am we
shall ever be
never were
ever blurred
then again we are what we've ever been
and yet this sin always comes in
with lies confusing our eyes so we realize
nothing ever never what it could have been should have been
like cars passing on a freeway with out lines
or cement spines to divide and hide
the oncoming traffic
so it's graphic when we collide
we try to hide on the soft shoulder
till we become some what boulder
or older and a bit colder
we build calluses with each collision
and revision to our designs
but we still don't read the signs
warning of the absent lines
from this frenzied freeway few are given any leeway
and now we see and can believe, nearly no one gets to leave
before being mangled, strangled, tangled and broken
yet soft spoken i speak this warning for those not yet mourning
Stay in the Lines Read the Signs Heed Weather Warnings
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