1. |
||||
|
Honestly, this is the only way.
Trust is the last thing we need.
|
||||
2. |
||||
|
a pre-existing format
passion by default
remains of instincts
permanence
end all be all
the apex of what we make
our purpose. to self-preserve our
intentions.and a lonely
hope that we have preconceived.
here it is.
take for granted what we thought.
was perfect in it's intangible
almost child-like
simplicity.
and the rest will
fall apart before you
understand.
what has made you
obsessed with your ego.
vanity or honesty,
you will buy it, for as long as they sell it.
bury your hands beneath the sheets.
remake an altar in praise to a god
that you still trust. end all be all.
your lord adorns thee with conceit, you fail to quell.
an embrace you long to welcome.
as it's mouth shall form your name.
unholy worship. your lust attracts their glance.
a pre-existing format
passion by default
remains of instincts
permanence
self preservation.
your god.
leave me.
leave me this. only one.
leave me.
leave me a reason.
leave me.
remake an altar in praise to a god
that you'll still trust. end all be all.
an embrace you long to welcome.
as it's mouth shall form your name
under a sky which you'll swear was a duller shade of grey.
|
||||
3. |
Lean Back
03:22
|
|||
|
your eyes arrest me
in stale perfection
condemned to ignorance.
all,
your rationales are but
convictions.
you appeal to a fool: this is rape.
asphyxiation via passifier.
perversion of my discretion.
for but such
a base perogative.
and buried
somewhere
beneath
matters
of no consequence;
discarded trust,
faith, utopian ideals.
chemicals and motives
provoke this debauchery.
and in the
truth you've
defeated me.
in the wake of a
kingdom
laid waste by your deceit
i am naive, weak, and helpless. but a beggar in your arms.
on my lips i taste the intent to adulterate this. a consolation
an offering you've forced into my mouth.
upon ingestion it runs screaming from my pores.
naive, weak, and helpless.
still but a beggar in your arms.
spare my trust,
on the way back down.
it feels familiar.
spare my trust,
on the way back down.
it feels familiar.
spare my trust,
on the way back down.
it feels familiar.
|
||||
Daniel Byington Detroit, Michigan
Composer/performer/music educator from Michigan.
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