pbadmin

the perfect shade of lipstick a red that belies insouciance carefully weaved into a style eyeliner drawn with an artisan’s hand replication makes perfection she’s just a button short of trash matching toes and fingers the peek-a-boo shoe manipulation as subtle as the perfume a South Beach tan under a sun-streaked do orchestration and precision the girl works harder than you primitive inspiration packaged in modern disguise disposition permitting a glimpse of the thigh masculine resolve with a feminine plan domination and submission she smells the gas then lights the match stylish deliberation the chattel of Calvin Klein obsession calculation of color and design glamour defined by supply and demand education and graduation she’s just a culture short of class a moment of indecision cool wind from the edge of the cliff intoxication feels like love when it looks like this if Truth is the price for a superficial charm the night is laughing watching us turn absolutely nothing into form the season changed and the sky turned gray without the sun there is no night, or day the hours stack like sand in a glass i suppose i should sleep till spring like the grass but there's reason to believe that spring won't arrive there's reason to fear that when you left, I died when i look in the mirror, my face is too white when i check for a pulse, i'm afraid of the quiet definition is blurred by the shadows of white movement is stalled by the absence of light i can't bear the cold without the heat of my blood i can't find my heart without the warmth of your love If i start to cry the tears freeze on my face If i start to smile my skin cracks in place if i start to scream the snow buries the sound i slip on the ice that covers the ground like a snowman, with arms open wide i'll remember the spring i'll remember the light i'm petrified, like stone in the cold but i'll wait forever, frozen, and alone no one must know no one to call but for the lipstick and perfume there would be no trace here of me at all blinded by your tenderness crushed beneath your kiss i'm your silent partner in this a ghost in this room waiting for you but for the naked desire that promises to shelter a love-sick fool lost inside your wilderness exiled by your kiss i'm your silent partner in this intoxicated on the violence of this fire feeding the greed that burns my fingertips suffocated on the sweetest brutality and the warmth and breath and whisper of a liar nowhere to go beg me to stay can't you hide the kindness in your eyes that leaves me bleeding on and on this way? blinded by your tenderness crushed beneath your kiss i'm your silent partner in this for company i like lots of MTV stylish imagery, advised, connived, and contrived [...]

The bluest morning ever broke today forego the nighttime find the moon in the afternoon cry all day one is forgiven much too soon Another year has come and gone my way my blood is thicker showing signs of pathology fast on the track to decay remorse as company here to stay I need you I lost you What a shame The smoky faces lost in this café their lips forever chat a grey uniformity cry all day amazing lethargy here to stay I need you I lost you What a shame no sunrise no coffee What a shame No seaside no poets, no backbeat no lover, no mother no mainline, no downtime What a shame If today I follow death Go down its trackless wastes Salt my tongue on hardened tears For my precious dear time's waste Race Along that promised cave in a headlong Deadlong Haste Will you Have The Grace To mourn for Me? Will you Have The Grace To mourn for Me? The thrill is gone The thrill is gone I can see it in your eyes I can hear it in your sighs Feel your touch and realize The thrill is gone The nights are cold For love is old Love was grand when love was new Birds were singin', skies were blue Now it don't appeal to you.. The thrill is gone This is the end So why pretend And let it linger on? The thrill is gone This is the end So why pretend And let it linger on? The thrill is gone "Here is something definite, something real. Thus, waking from a midnight dream of horror, one hastily turns on the light and lies quiescent, worshiping the chest of drawers, worshiping solidity, worshiping reality, worshiping the im- personal world which is a proof of some existence other than ours. That is what one wants to be sure of .... Wood is a pleasant thing to think about." "The Mark on the Wall" Virginia Woolf I've got a brain that's black and blue a waking state that feels like slumber can't find guitars that scream like you a raw desire that pulls me under This is too rich for my blood Inside the cold of small success the chilling glare of younger failure a stranger turns away the rest and finds in me a well-worn savior This is too rich for my blood A heart that's torn, a sun still shines a broken man finds strength to labor a memory that's past it's prime will burn my frozen nights forever This is too rich for my blood I've got a brain that's black and blue a waking state that feels like slumber can't find guitars that scream like you a raw desire that pulls me under This is too rich for my blood Inside the cold of small success the chilling glare of younger failure a stranger turns away the rest and finds in me a well-worn savior [...]

You'd be so easy to love So easy to idolize, all others above So worth the yearning for So worth keeping the home fires burning for We'd be so grand at the game So carefree together that it's It does seem a shame That you can't see your future with me 'Cause you'd be oh so easy to love We'd be so grand at the game So carefree together that It does seem a shame That you can't see your future with me 'Cause you'd be oh so easy to love