if poverty is freedom, than I am in chains
if Love means suffering, then am a wealthy flaunt amongst the beggers,
and parade my health in a hospital ward
if living means dying, then daddy walk with me in hand to the bridge
cause I can't bear to be alive
and don't think there's room in this clay for such hypocrisy
"unless you can part my ribs like the sea
and make stone beat, then there's no hope for me
unless the east never meets the west
unless you set my sin between your shoulderblades
and forget
part my ribs like the sea and change me
'cause stone doesn't beat
and rock hearts don't pump anything
but I've grown not to mind because at least
stone doesn't sling like blood
or spill like guts across the floor
where the bloodsuckers want more and more and more"
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1 comment:
please keep writing, I love it (completely unbiased)... and love as cities burn too.... amazing discovery!
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