by Ash Wednesday.
At some point in the morning
When the sun meets the planes
My eyes get an eye full
Of something that is not going to be believed or explained
C'mon what's up with you.
You say about that little demon ( on your shoulders)
I am tired of playing
These hands are burning and screaming
With odd offerings new and old
Summer sunlight summoning the devil
Fuck ok I'll play a little tune with you
What's the harm, in just one song
Fiddling with time realities for fun
Chaos causing fucking harping
1 am in the frickin morning
This dance is long drawn out and done.
You see a 666
You see a 666
When I am bored I summon you just for fun
All to just reject you, a waste of breathe from lungs
Got to set my office almost on fire
Just to get a response back from your demon ass
You said I check all your boxes
But honey I can't be contained so kick rocks and
I'll see your fucking fake ass in the desert
The ending it deserves
And dead inside
I am hoping to have my turn
To fuck around and find out with the devil
What are you doing today?
Want to sweat it out?
Contrasting some sort of chorusing summons
I am trying to grow flowers out of my element
Fuck your boxes
I am growing peonies that you promised me
Too many moons ago
So cute I get to play with your demons
The sound of sorrows
The best thing I've heard since tomorrow
It's a good thing to do
You can come over and whip out your mind
Sharp little frickin forked tounge
Doomed to repeat mistakes.