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you said the moon was ours, to hell with the day.
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Created on 2012-04-24 16:47:17 (#1606521), last updated 2012-05-17 (682 weeks ago)
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| Name: | the worst thing I've been addicted to |
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| Magpie comes a-calling, drops a marble from the sky. Tin roof sounds alarm and wake up, child. Let this be a warning, says the magpie to the morning, don't let this fading summer pass you by. Black hands held so high, the vulture wheels and dives. Something on the thermals yanked his chain. He smelled your boring apex rotting on the train tracks and laughed under his breath because you thought that you could outrun sorrow. Take your own advice, 'cause thunder and then lightning gets you rain. We run an airtight mission, a Cousteau expedition to find a diamond at the bottom of the drain. Mockingbird sings in the middle of the night. All his songs are stolen, so he hides. He stole them out from whippoorwills and screaming car alarms. He sings them for you special, he knows you're afraid of the dark. C'mon sorrow, take your own advice, hide under the bed, turn out the lights. The stars this night in the sky are ringing out, you can almost hear them saying -- close your eyes now, kid. Morning's teeth are lit. They are waiting. |
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