“3:30am, all the streets are a blur. Heading for a wreck…the end of the world”




Stranger than andricon pictures…your steel
Wire frame.



Laced in temporary psychosis



I lick up trashed poems and dropped lyrics
From your doorstep
Dirty needles…leather boots.



And every word I bleed is just a cheap imitation
Of something I once saw flicker in you
Through grey eyes


Hydraulic haikus
Out of time




And I was once asked to write of heroes
I was once asked to write of you




I was expected to stain your glory onto paper
With cheap ink and recycled metaphors


But I choked.




Because every word I bleed is just a cheap photo copy
Of every phrase you ever disposed of


And deep down past all the sea of metallic imagery
Past the false pronouns
And over used adjectives


Every poem I’ve ever pulled from my flesh is…



Really about you.


Because every word I bleed is just a cheap imitation
Of every phrase you could never get quite right


I watch them trace through black light sandstorms
Supernovas falling apart through your mind

(Scarred track lines in the lower east side)



“We’re taking a ride with the pretty things tonight”



And every word I bleed is just a cheap photo copy
From a machine that’s running out of ink


Every sentence the same shade of blue



Your forgotten moments rewind
Re-energized




“We’re taking a ride with the pretty things tonight.
You know its wrong but it feels so fucking right”



“She’s terminal blue”









(all quotes taken from the song "verablue" by chemlab)

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