A Gentle Slave To Calming
 

All Words By : Stewart Alexander
ò Copyrighted 2014
 

I whisper steps in auditoriums
 

Drive by lakeside provinces in a hum
 

Words are white swollen guitar-strings in the bin
 

Where I feel the tender the moon the sun
 

Jump-start early morning sunshine
 

Poetry clears her throat from smoke
 

My thoughts they're blackened by trees and lumber-jacks
 

Please someone save me as I choke
 
 
 

 Sophisticated dirt cleansing my depression
 

I'm running the hurt from my face
 

I die I free wet gold into the realm
 

While bullets smile and pass me at pace
 

Stepping on long patience glamour to my final dust
 

In my portrait hides a smile lost in last reprise
 

Listing like a watered ship broken bottles captured
 

The last poetic look in my sullen eyes
 

Falling with proverbial stars I've become what I hate the most
 

A gentle slave to calming
 

Sapphired thoughts running through my veins
 

I live in alienation open to the harming
 

A castle made of sand crumbles in my hand
 

I hear the weeping high
 

The day turns to stray away from the cold
 

To a warmer smoother silent sigh
 

Missing windows tend to crash on the inside
 

Heat and dry skin still plague me in willow
 

Wine is morbid delightfully dead
 

For sick dreams from my sweat keep staining my pillow
 

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