Bleeding Into You

Bleeding Into You

I cut my fingers on your heartstrings
When you bid me play for you
A song of love and tragedy
A sweet and painful melody
A song of pleasures few

I let the droplets fall unhindered
Upon your ebon hands of night
Grasping out to all of me
With their quiet melody
Shutting out all that is light

Your fingers too are bleeding
Drops of sorrow, drops of love
Dripping over all I see
Strange and sweet, their melody
Sliding over stars above

Our hands entwine in a sanguine knot
Yours so dark, mine glistering white
The blood upon them both makes three
The chorus of our melody
Playing softly to the night

I cut my fingers on your heartstrings
When you let me into you
Into all that you could be
Your own silent melody
That you would play for precious few

Not A Love Song

Not A Love Song

Angel, you're an angel, alone and unsure
Angel, you're an angel, gasping on the floor
Profane and divine, in my putrid arms
Smoke-stained and draped in decadent charms
Angel, you're an angel, walking out the door
Angel, you're an angel, stinging to the core
Attired in darkness you walk the night
And tawdry demons surrender without a fight

This is not a love song
I cannot sing in my mother's tongue
I cannot sleep when day is done
This is not a love song
I cannot heal the broken ones
I cannot wish the pain undone
This is not a love song

Angel, you're an angel, decrepit and torn
Angel, you're an angel, flesh battered and worn
Slinking through tunnels and veins
Causing terrible pleasure and rapturous pains
Angel, you're an angel, clinging on through the storm
Angel, you're an angel, eyes like fire, but not warm
Searing many hearts you burn unending
Into sorrows sharp and never ending

This is not a love song
I cannot sing in my mother's tongue
I cannot sleep when day is done
This is not a love song
I cannot heal the broken ones
I cannot wish the pain undone
This is not a love song

Angel, you're an angel, rotting and fair
Angel, you're an angel, eyes sunk with despair
From every shattered heart you've seen
Every dream you dared to dream
Angel, you're an angel, voice cracking in pain
Angel, you're an angel, wings soaked in the rain
Alabaster faces leave you stranded
With every heat soaked night, you're branded

This is not a love song
I cannot sing in my mother's tongue
I cannot sleep when day is done
This is not a love song
I cannot heal the broken ones
I cannot wish the pain undone
This is not a love song

Angel, you're an angel, soaked in your sin
Angel, you're an angel, heart burns from within
Scorching all who dare to love you
Slinking under the beasts above you
Angel, you're an angel, mounted on crucifix
Angel, you're an angel, hanging on for one last fix
Shuddering 'neath snow white hands
Choking you with invisible strands

This is not a love song
I cannot sing in my mother's tongue
I cannot sleep when day is done
This is not a love song
I cannot heal the broken ones
I cannot wish the pain undone
This is not a love song

Angel, my angel, I can't write you a love song
Angel, my angel, I can't fool myself for very long
I can't let myself sink into you
I can't go beyond the milky hue
Angel, my angel, I cannot sing in my mother's tongue
Angel, my angel, I cannot see the set of sun
Angel, I can't afford to be wrong
Because this is not a love song

The Ballad Of The Comic Book People

The Ballad of The Comic Book People

Our world is a comic book written by a madman, where all the superheros hide in their caves and the ordinary people have to save the world on their own, where the sky is transparent sometimes and God looks down on us and laughs.

Our tears smudge the ink bordering the panels, and they run together with no discernible order, the heroes and villains forced together in an unholy copulation of colour and words, choked sounds held captive by the ink and pencil chains drawn in for them.

Our footsteps echo in the shadows of the pages, our thoughts illustrated in coloured bubbles and black and white captions, blurry line doodles in our heads, allegorical references to all the little demons we used to idolise and now they eat us quietly alive.

Our eyes gaze out over landscapes in the quiet and sinister cross hatching darkness, and when your hands start to disappear, you change the lighting and it fixes it all, all the nightmares run screeching and dismembered back to the borderlines and the crumpled waste-bin full of slaughtered characters just like you.

Our lives are but a few pages, never more than necessary, can't waste a panel, can't miss a deadline, do you hear me boy? Get it in on time, fix it, kill them off, you don't need the last bit, REVISIONS!! Somehow we end up on the cutting room floor, half coloured and lonely.

Our children are scribbles, half-neglected and unfilled, their outlines faltering sometimes, but never really gone, no matter how the eraser scrapes, its abrasive love can wound, but never kill. We shall survive.

Our homes are boxes, panels and outlines, it's not important to the story, don't worry about it, who's gonna read you, little boy, little scribble. Don't talk down to me, eraser whore. We don't need you.

Our lives are a shaky ink-spattered page, and I guess we all know that. We're all expendable. As the eraser looms again, we think about our fate, our crumpled page. Our lives are over now. No 'to be continued', no 'next issue:'. We're gone now. Goodbye. Close the book and walk away. But never forget. Oh no, you'll never forget.

Crying Home

Crying Home

I sat on the platform, staring at my hands
And I wondered why I was there at all
Why I went through the motions at all
And I cried

I slumped, dejected, in the seat by the window
My voice cracked and broken in my throat
Atrophied from lack of use
And I cried

I leaned my forehead against the dirty glass
Gazing at the lights of the tunnel
So many forgotten eyes have done the same
And I cried

I thought about the people I've known, swept away
By time, by chance, by life
The life I wish was simpler
And I cried

I thought all the things I've never said
Loves, lies, pains, hopes, hidden by my voice
Cowering in my throat, unheard and unseen
And I cried

I thought about the half-written songs I didn't sing
Because my heart was out of tune
My voice still dead and empty
And I cried

I got off the train, fumbling in my pocket for the ticket
And I wandered slowly home
In the semi-darkness, wiping my eyes in a bitter attempt to hide my tears
And I cried

On The Wrong Page

A tribute to Bettie Page.

On The Wrong Page

That smile could break your heart
Even as it made it start
Draw your blood out of your veins
With a thousand gorgeous pains
Old man Satan's girl-next-door
Dichotomous forevermore
Icon of a forgotten time
And of hidden sordid grime

Bettie, have you slipped into the blackness?
Bettie, are you gone forever?
Bettie, have you vanished in the darkness?
When you coming back, if ever?
Bettie, you were the first one
And every eye turned to you
Bettie you were the best one
We're on the wrong Page without you

Eyes are sweet, a little cruel
Mistress of the old school
Sparks of light 'neath coal-black hair
'Come hither' gleam that cries 'beware'
On beaches sunny sands of yore
And behind the dungeon door
Vixen of a youthful year
All but long forgotten here

Bettie, have you slipped into the blackness?
Bettie, are you gone forever?
Bettie, have you vanished in the darkness?
When you coming back, if ever?
Bettie, you were the first one
And every eye turned to you
Bettie you were the best one
We're on the wrong Page without you

Notorious for leather whips
And for smiles on virgin lips
There's innocence behind that smile
That no cruel world can defile
But still she slipped away at last
tired of doing what Klaw asked
Hid herself from prying eyes
And there she'll stay until she dies

Bettie, have you slipped into the blackness?
Bettie, are you gone forever?
Bettie, have you vanished in the darkness?
When you coming back, if ever?
Bettie, you were the first one
And every eye turned to you
Bettie you were the best one
We're on the wrong Page without you

On the wrong page without you...

Lullaby

Lullaby

The fog is not yet lifted
The sands are not yet sifted
The sky is not yet shifted
But hold on

The smoke is not yet cleared
The sinner not yet speared
The child not yet endeared
But hold on

The clouds are not yet spread
The corpse is not yet dead
The thief still keeps his head
But hold on

The song is not yet sung
The bell is not yet rung
The war not yet begun
But hold on

The child is not yet mean
The play is not yet seen
The sea is not yet green
But hold on

The tree is not yet chopped
The pulse is not yet stopped
The apex not yet topped
But hold on

The earth is not yet cold
The world is not yet old
The tale is not yet told
But hold on

The dream is not yet marred
The sky is not yet scarred
The way is not yet barred
But hold on

The noose is not yet tied
The lovers not yet sighed
The ocean without tide
But hold on