Look at the tear drenched face, The eyes worn out of their sockets By nights of pacing, fury, bitten nails; Look for the truth in that battered sorrow. Did love exist in those soft and tender words? Did the liar believe the lie? Or was it a trick, a malice etched upon the heart? When he pledged his love to her. Or was it as she now screams? A hidden agenda, born of cruelty and nursed by hope? Stemming from hatred, bathed by love? She cannot know. He is gone. The delusion came, the delusion left But truth slipped invisible into the night.
Sing away, our voices are safe Those teeth will grind our wings no more Our beaks are our revenge. Show the babies its rotten corpse The mangled ruins gutted, Stomach home of maggots- Not birdie stew From the grass it killed us In the grass it died Guess you’d call that Symmetry One day we’ll fly above that grass See fearless bunnies hopping past The mausoleum of that cat.
Right as you walk in You spot him A noble bust upon a hallowed Plastic Cabinet, guarding the loo. The weathered face holds such Silent secrets, and you wonder What brought him to the john. Eyes that belong to chanting counsels Settle and his wise grim face Focuses on a 5c towel sign That fascinates no other. His company is fair enough And visitors are many, no doubt. And when he is lonesome, there is a window Shrouded in curtains, lost to forward eyes.
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