deep end:

fist fighting demons again, knuckles raw, bleeding skin /
until the season's end i'm stuck in brawl, make these heathens dead /
the struggle, more/less, is so fatal and gorgeous /
rip off the horns and nail that halo right on your forehead /
my face is covered in blood, sweat and spit /
i'm gonna let em mix until you can't even tell which is which /
my face a crimson disc, my raw nerves are fairly severed /
i guess it's nothing long steps can't temporarily temper /
out the door, right foot's the kick, left foot's the snare /
i'm shook and scared, i'm pushed to rare, i'm gonna hoof it there on these crooked stairs /
find that timeless, isolated, island /
close my eyelids, hold my breath and listen to the silence /


please come to my show on saturday. please come to see the other people too.

posted by adam @ 10:54 PM