tomorrow should have been kurt cobain's birthday. ~ed.
i remember every time we heard the stairs go by
i laughed out loud on purpose even though i felt i'd die
i wished that francis bean's dad would just quit the band
all i had in this life was to hold my daughter's hand
look for the child you lost last month back in second grade
no more sleeping on the sidewalks that your father made
the concrete waits for no one even those who come in pairs
you can run but never hurry when you're falling down the stairs
roman hospitals are no match for a grown up child
you trained your demons to play songs that always must roam wild
the pain and what once killed it hides your aqua sea foam change
no symphony in this life can conduct what you've arranged
i remember each time i forgot to wave the stairs good bye
i had all four runner's in the west beat for most DUI's
little matt tapped my handcuffs and made me smile a bit
but losing all and everyone still wouldn't make me quit
it's a small world after all the jobmakers export
everything our parents used to do to chinese ports
training girls to be princess of no one who really cares
makes no difference who you are to wish upon the stairs
a slave to all his vices is a knave to all he knows
it only takes two bottles to kill everything he grows
one is for the pain that took the place of his dead heart
one was stolen from some one who said they'd never part
if tomorrow was a letter it would be sealed by the throat
no one except the faithful remember how to really gloat
those who win each time they play turn apple into pairs
death becomes the dying when they're running out of stairs
if trouble's all around you and you don't know what to do, give a little whistle
~ jiminy cricket. not a virgo nor a ram's fan.
No comments:
Post a Comment