BrostoryThis house is now burning, world no longer turning.
We’re stranded, all sinning, wagering quitting.
We look at the dead, alive our heads.
The closure we need not planted like seeds.
No oxygen left, we look at what’s left.
In our homes, in our lives, reflecting on both sides.
Like flowers not blooming. The hell are we doing.
Dakotamakeshift alarms
motors in cars
mechanical smiles//
jungle of arms//
maps are no use
we're to lost to find
a canvas of grey//
Dude, you look so 90'sTeeth set on edge.
Waits for the come-down.
Lost in the back-round,
Lost in the sound.
Eyes cold and bare.
The room was a spare.
Lost in the back-round,
Goodyeargave them a laugh
made them all smile
sat down and joined them
they were all waiting
Introspection I,III/ Our time, we strive.
We’ll drive, our severed hands are bound as one.
Our thoughts, arise.
Unknown, once tightly closed, now bound with gold.
Our Gold.
Holding the foreman.
NagasakiDu soir au matin
Un dans le désert
L’espoir qu’au matin
Je puisse me défaire
De cet ennuie en solitaire
La pluie arrose bien les fleurs
Alors derrière ce tonnerre
Je préfère croire
Scott Walkeryour fat had returned
fueling the burn
no truth around
memory it drowns
Sorting RoomsWhy did we fall victim to hands that take and refuse to give back?
Retracing our steps but finding no self worth
We took advantage of all that was in our name
And we’re taking blame
Now we consider wealth our last option?//
I can change, I can’t change.
Pictures hang, further once renamed//
UNIThe light has been casted, the space-ship has blasted.
Moshing your head to remove the water,
Blatantly plastered.
Dove in too deep. Band-aids from knees.
Blood from their caps, removed all their water.
Disease it sinks.