CellarGhosts
08/25/07, 07:40 PM
this may seem like it's about Jess too, but it's not haha. I promise. more so, its about not being able to say something when you really want to, no matter what the case. oh, and it's also partly about boredom, as well as my habit of constantly criticizing myself... oh, and points to the person who catches the thinly-disguised "Ron Burgadny - Anchorman" refrence haha.
Fire Escapes
Swollen lips I press tightly together,
Stop these phantom words from rolling off my tongue.
Minute implosion in this cerebral state*,
Winding like fire escapes.
Burning manuscripts in a dull, dumb fashion.
Lettering engulfed in rippling waves of red.
I'm sifting through the embers, raking in the ashes.
Watching paragraphs dispel into clouded memory.
[chorus]
I'm so self-aware in this midwestern despair,
Gut feelings I can't shut out wash away with the rain,
I'm blinded by the traffic glare.
I'll be nothing here without me,
Stepping slowly out into the crowded streets.
I'm so harsh and haunted amongst this sea of faces,
None of them can relate to this cold retreat.
[repeat chorus]
I am an arsonist beneath these buildings,
Bad breath and bad hair, crooked teeth, oddly shaped feet.
With swollen lips I press together 'till teeth bite through,
I'll be fading out, into a deep blue and red hue.
* - that's "minute" pronounced "my-noot" (meaning "small"), not "minute" as in 60 seconds haha.
just thought I'd make that clear to avoid any possible confusion.
Fire Escapes
Swollen lips I press tightly together,
Stop these phantom words from rolling off my tongue.
Minute implosion in this cerebral state*,
Winding like fire escapes.
Burning manuscripts in a dull, dumb fashion.
Lettering engulfed in rippling waves of red.
I'm sifting through the embers, raking in the ashes.
Watching paragraphs dispel into clouded memory.
[chorus]
I'm so self-aware in this midwestern despair,
Gut feelings I can't shut out wash away with the rain,
I'm blinded by the traffic glare.
I'll be nothing here without me,
Stepping slowly out into the crowded streets.
I'm so harsh and haunted amongst this sea of faces,
None of them can relate to this cold retreat.
[repeat chorus]
I am an arsonist beneath these buildings,
Bad breath and bad hair, crooked teeth, oddly shaped feet.
With swollen lips I press together 'till teeth bite through,
I'll be fading out, into a deep blue and red hue.
* - that's "minute" pronounced "my-noot" (meaning "small"), not "minute" as in 60 seconds haha.
just thought I'd make that clear to avoid any possible confusion.