The f ing bombing in Boston

I just wanted to flip the bird real hard at them

And when it boiled down to one guy

My middle finger was a lot more satisfied.

I have a thing

It's inside of me

I got it

And as far as I can

It will always go

Faster than anyone can

Something inside

That was always denied

It has a big horse

And it rides

It rides!

I saw the brave soldiers

Yes they were brave

But blinded by hate

Their guns should be roses

Along their march 

They could slow

And listen to the beatings 

The beatings of their heart

For love is what they want

Not murder

Clutching their trigger

We all know 

This game must end

So love will prevail.

Today I saw so many orchids that they all became vaginas.

Then I blinked and returned to the flower room.

Buckets and bucket

Bucket of love

Got them on the bucket machine

Spinning in circles

Like circle of dreams

Open the vest

Open the vest 

She says

Oh yes

Buckets and buckets and buckets

Freshly squeezed.

I find it sick what I see on some people's spirits

As if I can't see that which is inside

To really think I am duped

And I am really looking down on those blokes

They are the jokes.

Star 

While you push me

And tear at me

Why

I hold onto the rope

Can't give up hope

It is in twine

My heart in pieces 

It is going to 

Two

It is alive

I am

Thoughts of mine

Takes me inside again

In my rocket of life

Having the pain in my chest

It is not good 

But perhaps for the best

God knows

At least I wish I got some

Something.

A color is fading

And it must not

For there is little of it left

Yet times causes it to fade

And fade it does

But it must not

This is life

Not decay

Life.

Dreams as we truly feel them are the bar.

It is a new window

This window almost opens

Some light gets through

And even with out 

It's penetration gets through

Glass shatters and splinters

The bucket was tipped

And stuff poured out.


Having held the drums 

Having played them

With you

I felt the feelings

Of a new sound

Heard a calling 

Went to the edge 

Found there was no freedom 

I had been chasing my shadow

And nothing would begin

Shadows don't make sense

So I let them all out.


It is a new day in Brazil

In America.

It is not and it is.