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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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