Closer

Sonic boom in the night its too late but she wont hate the voice in your eyes that says its o but the truth is it will never be and I don’t know what to make of the rest of the time that we spend sailing through the rain of life that shudders inside like a closed clock of dust that never sees the face of time in destiny for we have nothing more to say to each other and when the aim swells to the point of unbearable scorching screaming inside like a cast of iron from the aces where we can never go an end the veins of clouds that float inside my head make me wonder if I’m dead but the truth is that I can’t die anymore than you can fly and that scares the skin that lines the stomach that sits within and now I know that when you tell me spoken words of days since past that leave me wondering where we will last but that never makes any sort of sense and as the liquor fills my veins and I sit here in a stupor of pain like the blood pooling in a drain that has no end in sight and I will tell you thru truth that transcends all hope of life and death and pan and strife and life and crisis that wall never leave because here wean re I a pot of nothing and a space in time before it is all gone but tat makes it seem as I there is something more to say but white light binding like the sight of past pointed spikes inside the head of some giant man who never ran a day in his life but question things like gravity because here we are sitting in a sort of parallel life unknown to those who can’t understand the way we look to be and never want to know how in the world we are her but kindness is the antithesis to this life that we see unfolding in front of me on a daily basis like a baseless fool in the desert left to mend the place behind the awe of nothing more in wonder and lust that makes us trust in something more than just us but I won’t be that man who never felt the way that you do right now in the middle of this pasty place of traced back to some sort o origin more over than the clouds in the sky they fill with wear from the tears of giants whose made of butter like the boy from the back of my main fat rat cat never beer here before no non no know but here they know the truth before you even get to live it rattle those bones I could not taste it if I were round the bend it would make for a taste of lie that we had never known existed until this sex is on fire lore the trial of nail of the long long day and I won’t fight in that higher that you can survive without that make you act the way you act in place of the madness that controls the rat indeed that mind it turns on pain like some sort of bloody mass of peril never to return again but I’ll let it got I never knew you the way you knew me like I love you inside of places that stray from the norm but never go back to there for here but now I say that we are the ones who will run and never look back but on top of this mess it sees so sea like clear in the place of oceans bleeding wine into the soul of a jerk sucking this life dry in place the mice return to feast on the bones of kings that rattle inside the gates of iron combined with rusty dementia nothing will ever be clear years of death inside this house makes it ideal for this process of love in place of knowing more than a hat inside the roots of by the gone of this world to ask for something more to ask for the key to a door to look beyond a hill to walk and not to fill by drain on a daily basis like the rocks that hit your head inside the bloody time frame of this mug that makes all rot and ask for more like the war that rages and will near go into become a conflict with the words that define the space and tie inside this place where I willing give race to some who ask for more but the truth was never self evident in the place where you can’t even discuss this great world of death and grace and space that gives way to nothing more than the end of time I this dawn of kind till the point of trees in bindings click in to tea locks of know no wow but if you ever see the truth it will not only make you see but true place of my face no answers for this man who sees so clearly when the pressures on no way to tell