zooropamanda
Rock n' Roll Doggie VIP PASS
Do you want to see how far
we'd fall before we die?
Did you ever wonder on a honey star
what it would feel like to
jump beneath a speeding bullet?
Do you think your guarded angel
would catch you then?
Death...
looks kinda thrilling to me
Where all the secrets are told;
Where all the curiously curious questions and their answers mate;
Where blood ripped hearts torn,
down
the centre,
are welded back together;
Where lovers shy at meeting again forever.
Have you ever squeezed your fist with a fury,
and watched in evil smiles, as the
emerald hues puncture and scar themselves, desperate to escape;
desperate to grip tightly to their angel wings.
Do you want your angel wings?
If u sit at just the right angle before
a glass wall,
you might be lucky enough to catch
a moment's glimpse of your angel wings
already resting beneath the shoulder and spine...
I sometimes wish mine would grow a little...
I check them at each season's end.
They seem to grow a little more after the summer has died.
I perch on the mountain's flame, more in summer than the winter.
All my rage is crumpled and folded
into pockets of the corners of the earth, as the autumn spirals in.
I sometimes try to cut the pockets away...
I want my wings to grow and;
Sebastian says wings won't grow
if we are filled with a red soul.
Sebastian likes to watch the stars
on the roof of my backyard shed.
Sebastian's heart and mine,
reflect an ice warped burning god.
We will dive off my backshed one day,
when we dive,
the light that carries us,
will softly lift us away.
Finally at that moment, my wings and I will smile.
[This message has been edited by zooropamanda (edited 03-14-2002).]
we'd fall before we die?
Did you ever wonder on a honey star
what it would feel like to
jump beneath a speeding bullet?
Do you think your guarded angel
would catch you then?
Death...
looks kinda thrilling to me
Where all the secrets are told;
Where all the curiously curious questions and their answers mate;
Where blood ripped hearts torn,
down
the centre,
are welded back together;
Where lovers shy at meeting again forever.
Have you ever squeezed your fist with a fury,
and watched in evil smiles, as the
emerald hues puncture and scar themselves, desperate to escape;
desperate to grip tightly to their angel wings.
Do you want your angel wings?
If u sit at just the right angle before
a glass wall,
you might be lucky enough to catch
a moment's glimpse of your angel wings
already resting beneath the shoulder and spine...
I sometimes wish mine would grow a little...
I check them at each season's end.
They seem to grow a little more after the summer has died.
I perch on the mountain's flame, more in summer than the winter.
All my rage is crumpled and folded
into pockets of the corners of the earth, as the autumn spirals in.
I sometimes try to cut the pockets away...
I want my wings to grow and;
Sebastian says wings won't grow
if we are filled with a red soul.
Sebastian likes to watch the stars
on the roof of my backyard shed.
Sebastian's heart and mine,
reflect an ice warped burning god.
We will dive off my backshed one day,
when we dive,
the light that carries us,
will softly lift us away.
Finally at that moment, my wings and I will smile.
[This message has been edited by zooropamanda (edited 03-14-2002).]