An old clown executes a poor spiral dance
Stares at the empty theatre, in despair...
Cold and wet as it drips down
Seeping and soaking deep inside...
All this time
I was trying too hard to reach the propeller...
Bright red ink
Dancing across the page...
From Missouri,
Was this friend...
Red little lines
Cover his arms...
The film industry is a fu&king joke,
You are only beautiful if you choke...
Please, bring me raindrops in your palm.
Glance at the jungle behind my eyes...
Fire sweeping through the town,
storms racing to put them out...
Days kept account of by the tiny figures on pill...
And you've got to wonder: what am I doing with my...
I am afraid
to fall...
I've made a mess of things again
my feelings like the clothes on my floor...