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Description
If I talk through silly sunsets,
will you see this place I have become forgotten in?
I wonder
where supposed friends hang their non caring heads
and dream of days when promises were kept-
“Let’s,
keep in touch” he would say,
sprinkle lemon on those blue eyes to bring out the shine
of the love of a man I used to know
caresses and kisses of.  Infatuation junkies,
sing your songs; write your books; I,
am, your Queen.  Better able only to understand you
because I despise everything about you
which I see
in my self;
the everything of nothing and everything again; at the same time,
intertwined, and I wake up
to a pill popping nation I have ever so lovingly become a part of.
Where does the heart go when we die?
Where does the soul rest when we are alive?  Why
think of these things like they are the end of things
when they are the beginning and so much more.  I want to know more-
to catch his fancy, to catch my eye, to contemplate ever the meaning of the afterlife.
With a watchful shadow cast,
waiting for an act, and they tell me,
hushed voices in,
“This is what it’s all about.”
Yes,
this,
is what it’s all about.

Description
If I talk through silly sunsets,
will you see this place I have become forgotten in?
I wonder
where supposed friends hang their non caring heads
and dream of days when promises were kept-
“Let’s,
keep in touch” he would say,
sprinkle lemon on those blue eyes to bring out the shine
of the love of a man I used to know
caresses and kisses of.  Infatuation junkies,
sing your songs; write your books; I,
am, your Queen.  Better able only to understand you
because I despise everything about you
which I see
in my self;
the everything of nothing and everything again; at the same time,
intertwined, and I wake up
to a pill popping nation I have ever so lovingly become a part of.
Where does the heart go when we die?
Where does the soul rest when we are alive?  Why
think of these things like they are the end of things
when they are the beginning and so much more.  I want to know more-
to catch his fancy, to catch my eye, to contemplate ever the meaning of the afterlife.
With a watchful shadow cast,
waiting for an act, and they tell me,
hushed voices in,
“This is what it’s all about.”
Yes,
this,
is what it’s all about.