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Array
(
[sid] => 34360
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Cut Skin
[time] => 2004-02-09 07:36:37
[hometext] => I did this one last night. It came rather quickly-I hope you like it!!
[bodytext] => Cut Skin Drunk on Coca-Cola, I stagger down Central Boulevard Writings on the mystic wall Claw thru my brain I walk along, with echoes of beautiful songs And a schoolboy’s haircut For many years, they have enchanted me I’m on Las Vegas time I’m half a decade ago Guess you could say I’m unwell tonight But I’m always like this It’s just my way of saying goodbye And I come close to the perfect paragraph But I ***** it up I’m so desperate I’m so solitary it frightens me Some teenagers though, They have their heads screwed on The answer to the questions they ask… Is in George Harrison Beatles songs, It’s in Spiderman comics It was in Father Knows Best, It’s in bad TV from the Fifties that ate up my soul Maybe it’s even in God’s laugh I don’t know though I’ll leave that for the religious I’m still searching Searching for a clue, Searching for release Searching for the next girl, In her party dress I wonder what it would take to fool her I wonder if she’ll guess… I’ve lost so much inside Since last I danced this masquerade Probably she will want to talk, I bet she wants to know everything about everything The only internal thing about me Is my disease That’s what I call me I feel like a correspondent reporting back from the war-front I’ve got this survivors guilt I’ve got only me Beware, said the sign on the door I rushed in anyway She danced across the floor, she loved me Now she don’t come ‘round no more I don’t know what I prefer, I’ve had plenty of time, to find out A lonely woman stands by the sidewalk Her face is glamorous But beneath the makeup I see a person Beneath the makeup we are all people too, She looks like her feelings have been eaten up inside We could be a perfect match We could be the fire that burns down the church I used to have vivid description Now I have world-weary dialogue I’ve got nothing left The only internal thing about me Is my disease That’s what I call me The phone rings and rings I let it go It’s not her It’s always him Asking this tired ship of blood How I am Begging this half-woken skeleton To come on down And play in the fields of the Sun And run over the grass toward the Sea Yeah, I say to him I ***** her again Don’t worry, I left no mark I run, I run, I run away from feelings That I like too much Just like I push the knife against the skin Just to kiss the pain I started doing it when I was 17 Now I’m almost 30 It’s only the TV that changes, not me It’s only the adverts that get harder to resist I lost the real me so long ago Nothing can find me now I’d go for a cheap copy I’d go for a rumor of someone else’s dream And I stare out over the blue I watch the sparrows fly in formation I’m almost insane again The only thing that keeps me chained to this lazy Reality Is the tiny park Where the Japanese trees blow gently in the wind. It’s like Heaven might have been or was. We always want a happy ending. I always wanted to be in a cartoon show. We always want a happy ending. I always wanted to help the villain. We always want a happy ending. I always wanted to be in a cartoon show. The only internal thing about me Is my disease That’s what I call me If you have the cure Please come and see me Tread gently. Tread gently. Bow to the saints that line my walls And say, it’ll be OK Say, it’ll be OK. (D.J. Finn, 2004) [comments] => 2 [counter] => 228 [topic] => 43 [informant] => redlantern2051 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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