Five Fingers Later

Five fingers later,
Sunday night,
8 pm or under,
Xenon light.

That's when the treetops are kidding about,
For the sake of the doubt,
I'm a rose for a sheep,
And the sun for the heat.

Won't you choose how to be,
Won't you choose here with me,
I'm a cigarette tray,
For the sons of the race.

And you,
Took me by surprise.

It helps,
If you'd close your eyes.

Cause five fingers later,
I'm still around,
Five birthdays before,
The magic town.

And I set this arm away.

Are you leaving,
With the clouds,
Cause if you're leaving,
Then what about those nights,
We weren't sleeping,
There's the doubt,
But where's the love?

She told her,
It's better if you're watching.

She told her,
The stars are better off with you.

I said,
You are always gonna sing the lullaby,
I couldn't help it if I cried,
Just the put echoes aside.

Five fingers later,
Coal-covered grace,
I woulda have it for a cater,
But I've gone and induced such a rain.

Where's the charm in believing?
Accounted coffee chats,
Cause if there's a hole in the bout,
Then the train home wouldn't be so long.

Five years later,
Saturday evening,
Morning asunder,
Cause it's then that I start to believe.

That the sun never rises,
And the firework dies off,
Everytime we get close,
But if there's such a hell,
Then i guess we're all on our toes.

The Tuna In The Brine

I found a key to my heart,
And how is it hard,
Or cold.

And you found the lock to my dorm,
And open the door to my trust fund,
Of wisp dreams.

Right in my darkest hour,
Is fate,
It reminds you of everything good,
So I'm told.

See I find your neediness glistens.

And who holds that hand,
A lie amongst tonight,
A tuna in the brine.

Take everything that you're not,
And don't be so scared,
To take tenfold, tenfold, tenfold..

And don't go blue this time.

Cause you call it all,
Food.

The night of your darkest hour,
Has fade,
Reminds me of everything 'you',
So I'm told.

Believe, fool.

You took me to your heart,
You held to,
Light amongst the white,
The tuna in the brine.

A tool to your heart,
A tool to your heart..

Don't be scared to use your heart,
To change.

Save. Take. Leave.

I've ain't seen a lot,
Seen the colours,
But you,
Seem closer to everything.

Ain't singing a lot,
Singing the colours,
Of you,
Seen the clothes of your misgivings.

Seen you closer to everything.

Closer now,
It'll be over now,
Soon.

Closer than everything else.

I speak for change,
And change,
Is everything.

Figures and dolls,
Aren't changing,
Anything.

It's your turn to shine,
Like tuna in the brine.

Revolvers and cars,
Are changing,
Everything.

So when the piano won't sooth,
You took up the sweat from my back,
Healing my,
'Can't get enough'.

So take another pill,
And tell another lie,
A lice amongst the dye,
Children in the fire,
Like tuna in the brine.

Working With Levers

Take me home,
When I'm alone,
Give me certainty,
Not shiny stones.

I've been working,
48 hours today,
Not a-sleeping,
Under the highway.

I lost track in the wilderness and see a darkness,
That warmed me inside,
I couldn't care what was time.

Maybe it's time we get a long,
If I don't come back,
Doesn't mean there's something wrong.

When every plane flies away,
I see your face.

When every streetlights fade,
I feel your gaze.

I don't understand,
How a beast is a man,
But you gave me,
Back my heart.

I believe,
In the secret glow imbued,
In the stories,
Of things I just assume.

But there's faith in what you want to see,
But there's none in this sephia city.

Holding hands in the dark of esplanades,
The trees might've sang a lovely phrase,
Counting ripples,
And dancing through the haze.

Tell me why do I feel like you're letting me go.
Is this black bear too much for your depose,
In the cold white of winter,
The dark sky will find you.

Time is a giraffe,
In the sea,
You can't find the head,
If you don't climb up and see.

Don't touch me,
I'm a plastic poly grade,
A collection,
Adorn inside a case.

Endless pavement or an island of a shade?

And I chose you.

Goodbye Star

Please don't get me wrong,
See I forgive you with a song,
With all the things we had,
But what is left of you,
I know exactly what you'd do,
With all the dreams we have.

If blood runs,
Just stick anesthetics in,
You know,
If it's important to you,
It's important to me.

I'll try to make you see,
Why you won't wanna know,
You don't want to know.

If I don't come along,
Oh I would please with you a song,
To touch, my bad,
Someone asked you to come along,
And now we need you through the wrongs,
"So don't come back" I said.

Oh love don't mean sticking around,
Or anesthesia now,
Is that important to you?
Not important to me.

I tried to make you see,
But you don't wanna know,
You will never know.

What became of the life we led?
What became of the fiends we fed?
Oh, what became of forever?
Now we'll never know.

Please please don't think I'm wrong,
Coz we'll just sing another song,
I call the "Lively Lad"
Yeah, we all bought the ones,
That we thought wrong of,
And the fun,
We used to think we had.

If it falls,
Stick'em back on,
It's easy as that,
Whatever's important to you,
Yeah what's important to me.

I'd try to make you see,
But I won't wanna know.

What became of the things we said,
What became of the dreams we had,
What became of Decembers?
What became of forever now,
Do you even wanna know?

Chalky, Smokey and Forever Friends

--

There I was,
In uniform,
Looking at the subway curves,
My vows,
Like a girls hand,
Will never ever touch again,
Down the forever and ever love system.

He was not as bold as I thought,
He had tickets down to the metropolitan museum,
He asked us what our favourite,
Work of art was,
And never could I tell him,
It was him.

I looked at the ruins and crabgrass,
I liked the drums sinking softly,
She told me she liked summer,
And never have I seen the sun,
As bright as her.

Oh never will I hold another hand.

Honest it hasn't been said,
How heaven's an executive company ad,
Oh, it's never been dark,
A touch of grey,
And a,
"I wish I had once..."

And there he was,
In his uniform,
And that other stuff in his hand,
Thinking about creatures of his heart,
I was just a girl then,
And never have I learned,
His trend,
But I'll never ever love any other friend.

The Man Who Vowed To Catch The Sky

...and never touch the ground.

It's an inevitable feeling when you step on a radon floor as you watch the crowd of libertines minding their own business.

You wonder how one could be in the commotion of anthropoids and feel unease.

The uneasiness of isolation in a grayscale mosaic of plastic inextricable.

But when a pagan closes his eyes and sleep under the trees as the sun washes his overalls on his own.

You don't call that loneliness, you call that tranquility.

When one loses touch with God he loses touch with everything. Right?

Is God the word I'm looking for? Or is nature a more fitting nomenclature for the generic population of voters and dominions?

I dreamt about Vittoria again. As forever I should.

She proved God in a tunnel of atomic acceleration.

I could prove God in an easier way really, by the sense of nothingness.

It's exactly that.

"Sometimes I don't know how much I love my home, until I've been somewhere really different for a while"

Been remembering things again.

Like that time I crossed the bridge from one wooden platform to another.

You've been there.

There were birds everywhere, chirping to get your attention, but most of the time you long to get to the other side before you enjoy the view.

But when you get there, your mother tells you that it's time for lunch and that the birds "dah bosan dah"

Life's an aviary.

Take time to notice the plumes of parakeets, and the planks that you step on.

I can't promise you it'd be faeces-free. No one can.

All I can tell you is that sometimes you're just not looking up. And that you have to try to do so.

Occasionally the planks are brittle, and you fall through to your end.

So what?

Honestly, so what?

Vitamin Nothing

Sometimes we're just unsure of what we're looking at and we overcome that by the power of naming.

Beats "furry thing-a-majig" everytime

Sometimes when I look at the plain parquet of a mosque I see footprints of people sauntering their marking all over the house of God. Makes you wonder "siapalar yang pakai kasut masuk surau ni"

Sometimes when I look through the clouds I can see distant flight machines, remembering the olden days of propelling noises.

Sometimes there'd be two, clashing against each other like two stars in the - not endless really, more of a "besar gile" - godforsaken space.

I see clouds as one of God's most beautiful animated inanimate objects, the malapropism of it all touches my heart.

Foxes in pin-striped coats incarnated into the figure of a fisherman.

He visits daily, sometimes to sneak a few of those nuggets I bought from KFC the day before.

Funnily enough, no one even remembers his name anymore.

So we just call him the ever glamorous name of Pak Mat

The way he dreams of owning a ship as the words are dictated through his rotting teeth, makes me smile with my perfect ones as I sit under the cherry tree.

I think smokers need their own culture.

Drugs had it with their junkies.

Sex had it with their Democrats and Protestant.

The colour of their lungs don't bother me at all really, it's more of the demeanour.
How the fogs of monoxide shroud their faces when they talk beatifically (no matter the usage of vocabulary) of what they did out in the ocean or in their office.

Even the mundane ones tend to be more interesting, coughing out their seemingly last breath, and continue on laughing at you when you bring your something from home to eat.

Sometimes I wonder who's laughing last, but I guess it's kinda amusing when a person carries a portable exhaust pipe in between their phalanges WHILE bantering about the current fossil fuel economy.

As the petrol price rises, so does their blood pressure. Literally.

An as an avid aficionado of literati and countercultures I dare say that "The One-Toothed Fisherman" will always be the closest to my crackling soul of copper.

Oh, god this was a very jovial post.
I'm gonna go bomb a christmas tree.

Massalam