Maybe

Maybe, the sun will find some other day to die

Maybe, my hopes and dreams are worth another sigh

Maybe, these questions will find answers on their own

Maybe, there's a road

To take me back home.

Maybe, your rights, my wrongs are all that I can see

Maybe, this broken toy is all that I can be

Maybe, this winter's cold will come some other day

Maybe, these words

Are all I say.

Trust within me, keep me in your mind

At least for tonight.

Private places hide forever in sight

Inside your mind.

Kept on smiling even when she cried

Another fight.

War within my breath, my life

It gets me high.

Maybe, the weather's changing is another sign

Maybe, sitting right with you will keep me fine

Maybe, my world comes crashing down on the phone

Maybe, I'm alone.

Day and Time

Working up a sweat on his brow

Looking at the sky, asking how

Things could turn this way around

Silence could break without a sound.

She smiles and lays her head on his arm

Unfettered eyes, a secret charm

And he says, I will be here with you

For as long as the sky above shines blue.

Smoke on the horizon, someone's home

Laugh at will, no time to mourn

And he says, talk to me, always do

And I will only tell what I think is true.

Willing prisoners of this day and time

Willing soldiers of this life.

Am I alone? She asks, are you there?

Will I wait a thousand years?

Unanswered questions, through the haze

Carrots on sticks in this maze.

He has no more words to say, he is tired

She has no more to give, thoughts retired

And they sit in silence forever more

Speaking through signals, closing all doors.

Willing travellers in this year and time

Willing prophets of this life.

Liberty's Wake

They say every action counts

Every drop spilt, every drop sweated

It's all for the greater good

In the end it's all rated.

Care for the poor and unwashed, they say

And He will take care of you

We will sit back and watch it all

While you fight for what is true.

Am I me? Or am I the masses?

Am I me? Or one of the classes?

Cry not for yourself but for your brothers

They who have not what you have

So we will take everything you can give

And amongst ourselves, we will laugh.

Work for freedom, for liberty, for death

In true spirit, you must flounder

Strive for truth and justice and all that jazz

Walk a straight path, don't meander.

But am I me? Is what I ask

Am I me or just another class?

It has been written for sixty years now

My religion, my birth stars matter

They might be dead but still they preach

And the pages they wrote on torn and tattered.

La liberté ou la mort, is the call

But who do I free myself from?

Breaking my spirit against these shores

Do I deserve another dawn?

But the question is still clear: Am I me?

Or am I just another minority?

That Kind of Love

Maybe you've heard this tale before

And even if you have, don't stop me

Maybe you've heard of this girl

On a fragile quest against the world.

Oh, I know her, yes sir I do

And I know what color she bleeds

Through remorse and forgotten consequences

It's our souls on which she feeds.

Control, you say? Who is in control?

She has the gear stick up to sixth

Revving through this disjointed valley

Searching for her next newest fix.

Against the system she rallies forth

Stepping on the weak-willed and scared

Spewing venom, gnashing steel

Remembering the pain we all shared.

Across white lines of cocaine and smoke

Broken vials, caps and pills

She pulls the chain and the creature again

No time for sheared minds or wills.

Who's in-charge of my head today? She asks

Knowing there will be no answers

Raging storms of people bereft

Try to stop her like snake-skinned dancers.

And she tugs on that rusty chain once more

And the obedient creature follows

To the dimmest settlement over the hill

Where make-believe truths are swallowed.

It is this party we must rave at, she says

Where ecstacy is my promised whore

She says, it is this party we all must live in

She knows this party is worth dying for.

The chain is breaking but it does not break

As the creature strains against the barb-wired leash

And I know within the creature is me

For that kind of love this is.

Psycho Circuit

Can you see me in your room

When the lights are turned out?

And when I breathe into your ear

Will you thrash and shout?

Let me slither into your skin

And numb you with fear, my dear

I could slowly cut you open

Let the hurt in, cold and clear.

I am the hum in your phone

The beep digital that wakes you up

I am the infection in your wound

And the thread that sews you up.

The ghost in your machine, ready to eat

You up baby, your psycho circuit.

Make a wish and make it fast

Plug me in, make me last

Let my electric fingers switch you on

Claw the dark, contrasting stark.

Cheer the blade as it slashes forth

Welcome it with open arms

Meet me with a twisted smile

Do not mind the drops on the tile.

The soul in the grinder that makes you sick

And stare at your lovely psycho circuit.

A Hope in Hell

It's so cold

It's so cold out there

And I'm running scared

In my head, remembering what she said.

It's just love

It's just love, nothing more

No scars, no keeping score

Just life, nothing more.

Six strings wired

Strings wired through my eyes

Keeping me awake, breaking ties

So alone, far away from home.

A cold place

It's freezing here in hell

No cracks where I fell

But I feel broken, so forsaken.

These are just words

These words that help me smile

Clenching tightly to my pride

And alive, feel much alive.

Hopes, sunshine, please foretell

I have a chance, a chance in hell

To survive.

The Little Things

(This one's for you, my friend)

Teardrops, jewel teardrops
A June ice-cream with a cherry on top
Blue sky thoroughfares and morning dew
This, my friend, is a song for you.

Emerald grass, sprigs and all
Sleeping to the sway of the giants tall
Windchime laughs, electric smile
Calls out to me from a million miles.

Its the little things that help me through
The little things that make you, you.

Worn-out letters, a brand new sigh
Hours on the phone, days of crying
And that little thing at the end you share
"When you come calling, I'll be there."

So just stay there, I know you care
I might be late but I'll be there
And when I land up at your door
I couldn't be happier, I couldn't want more.

Because its the little things so bright and blue
The little things that make you, you.

And in the night, when the stars shine bright
I'll sing this song to the moonlight
And I promise. your world will shine
Like a crazy diamond to this rhyme.

The little things I will sing to you
Its these little things that make you, you.

Mama

Mama, been a while since I cried
I have been busy learning to fight
This weary road and my bruised feet
I will come home to your love, my need.

To your love I will reply
Keeping silent, no tears to cry
So long since I slept in your arms
Your promise to save me from harm.

Mama, let this son shine bright
To cry for me, that is your right
Mama but I won’t let you cry
Cross my heart and hope to die.

Mama, see me through the night
And lead me to the breaking daylight
Its okay, it’s okay to cry.

A new city, a new life
A new road, a new fight
Keep me in your heart, don’t let me die
And Mama, please, please don’t cry.

Pray for me, give me redemption
I might have lost faith but I am your son
Your tears cleanse me, they purify
But Mama, I won’t make you cry.

Its okay, it’s okay to cry.

Starlight

Maybe this is how it should be
Broken hearts held together by memories
Clocks that tick, make me sick
And tell me, everything will be okay.

Am I losing faith too soon?
Should I not cry under the swollen moon?
I can fake being okay, to make you stay
If only I could make you stay.

Let life play its cards and win
The starlight will let us in
I look at you and the world stays still
Breathing softly, drifting away.

This war is not mine to fight
And these lies are not mine to tell
But these cracks get deeper in my shell
A construct to hide me well.

Your tears shall cleanse me
Your words will change me
Starlight, do not dim or fade
I will not bleed a darker shade.

Look at me and make my world go still
Fill me softly, help me heal.

About A Gun (Some Plain Ol' Madness)

Can you hear them, baby please
Those voices inside my head
Whispering the songs of the dead
Baby, not gonna hurt you, put down your keys.

C'mon, sit down, show me your weary smile
And mumble sweet-nothings into my ear
Don't worry about the gun I hold so near
Its been my friend for miles and years.

Its alright, hush, don't you cry
You can hear them too, just try hard
Growling, biting, glass shards
They do more than just sit and sigh.

And my gun keeps them away
Keeps me safe while I fray.

Do you love me? Of course, you do
Seep within me my love, and slowly cure
You're not the disease I'm sure
You're my remedy, my drug my blues.

And they, with their bows and ties
Social grace and spiteful lies
They can't kill us, they will run
Under the gaze of my constant gun.

My gun that keeps them away
Sings me songs while I fray.

Help me with this needle, my friend
Pop it into this purple vein
Fill me with life, wash away the stain
A stain that will stay until the end.

Clean up for me, I will care
Make you bleed and staunch your wounds
Scream your hate, they will be here soon
Crawl and slither from their lair.

But my gun will keep them away
Slowly break me and help me fray.

Is this poison ennui now my life?
Can you answer my questions without fear?
Will you fake your smiles, so cold and rare?
And live your life of hurt and strife?

Could you please put this gun in my mouth?
Don't shiver baby, curl your finger
It might hurt, don't let it linger
Set me free and make me proud.

My friend, my gun take me away
I am not afraid, just too tired to fray.
Just please, please, make this go away.

Staind- Believe

Staind's new single sounds a bit too similar to 'Right Here' for comfort. Also, doesn't have that great a hook but definitely has a more pronounced mood and ambiance. Should be cool if the album sticks to this mood...
Listen to the song at:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=GIbzf6d2-zU

Misery

Outstretched arms, a blade in hand
Scarred veins, bleeding into the sand
Bloodshot eyes, every tear well-spent
Cutting swift, hoping I will mend.

Is it a sin to feel so much pain?
Looking up, waiting for the absent rain?
Is it alright to feel this good?
Coughing blood the way I should?

Misery loves company, they say
And if misery loves you, then you will pay
A shiny silver coin equals hurt
If you pay well, it will hit in spurts.

So misery will you be my friend?
And my wounds, will you tend?
Splints and bandages, shrieks and sobs
And the voices baying like rampant mobs.

And television, will you heed my cries?
Whore my soul for your products and lies
I promise, I will be a good boy
Moulded in plastic, a brand new toy.

Sitting alone, shrouded in smoke
Spent ash, crushed cigarettes, crushed hopes
Loneliness, Emptiness, Pain, Solitude
No love, no courage, no fortitude.

Right, stop, here I whine again
Why love? When there's nothing to gain
I'm okay, hey, at least I tried my best
Alright, I lied, can we fuck the rest?

Shit happens man, just deal with it
Quit whining, move on, get on with it
And if you want to cry over the phone once more
She'll say, "Stop it! You're being a bore."

So, I'm sorry for being this redundant
And I'm sorry for not putting up a brave front
Well, its just that it hurts so much
And I'm afraid, with you, I'm losing touch.

So misery, be a good friend
Reach in, wrench it out, make it end
And throw my bleeding, pumping heart to the floor
Let the corpuscles flow out through the door.

And leave me dying, without a fight
Laughing in agony, 'coz it feels so right
And if they say yours is not a life well-spent
I'll tell them, "Well, misery was my friend."

Land's End (a short story)

When was the last time you woke up to realize that you did not know who you were?
If some thing like that happened to you, what would you do?
Would you immediately begin panicking? Or would you try to push into your brain, searching for that last identifiable fragment that might be floating around amidst the millions of grey cells?
Would you be stunned for a while, unable to think straight, still feeling like you were caught up in one of your big bad nightmares?
Would your senses cooperate with you or would they be overawed by the confusion and the terribly white light that might be burning above you?
When you get your bearings, and find yourself laid out on a surgeon’s table, wearing nothing but a green, backless hospital gown, a white sheet covering the lower half of your body, would you then begin to panic?
And when you cannot feel your legs, still covered by the white-as-a-ghost piece of linen, would you begin to feel faint, not sure how to handle the gruesome picture that your imagination is painting for you?
What if to dispel all your unsaid fears, you jerk the sheet off and with relief find both of your legs still in place, in deep sleep, oblivious to neural commands?
Would you then wait for a while and then get out of the bed to investigate your surroundings? To search for someone who knows the way to solve this monster of a Rubik’s Cube that you seem to have become?
Would you notice the rows of gleaming surgical instruments that might be arrayed on the steel table next to the bed? Would you notice the cruel grins that they might be throwing at you […we wait to cut open human flesh… (snicker)] as you make your way out of the room?
What if you find yourself in a big hallway, littered with broken toys and broken wheelchairs? Would you grab on to one of them to keep you company or would you kick them out of frustration?
While stumbling through the hospital, what if you do not come across a soul and the thought begins to settle into your mind that something is just not right here? What if this is more than a simple case of anterograde amnesia?
What would you do if the hospital does not turn up anything except for folders with blank pages, computers with no files and television sets that have mastered the art of displaying random static?
Would you begin to cry now? Would you at least let a few tears out? Would you feel coal black fear being pumped out into your veins?
Or would you tell yourself that some kind of explanation could be found outside the hospital?
What if outside was a ghost town straight out of an American survival horror movie or videogame?
Would you shiver as a strong wind blows into your gown as you stare at the low lying grey concrete structure that lies across the road before you?
Would you wonder why the first analogy that came up in your mind was to do with America when your skin is brown?
And would you jump when a voice starts speaking inside your head?

…Do you like the eagles?…
Would you be able to understand the voice?
…Do you know of the wires and switches and fuses and detonators and…?
Would you be patient and listen to what the voice has to say? Or would you shake your head to clear out the cobwebs?
…Do you hate their ways…their women…their children…?
Would you attempt to ask the voice who it was talking about?
…Do you celebrate September…His call in September…?
Will you do it? Will you answer the call? When He calls for you again, will you respond to Him?
Would you try to talk back, no matter how crazy it might seem? If you do, how would you start? Would you talk to the voice like you talk to a stranger or would you treat it as a friend? Would you attempt to persuade it to help you?
And what if, just as abruptly as it had started, the voice in your head shuts up?


With nothing better to do, would you then take off to explore the ominous grey structure?
Or would you want to roam around in the outdoors for a while, although all around, the only thing that you can see is hard baked earth, a few brown scrubs, surrounded on most sides by rusty wire fence, which has already given up its fight against trespassers?
Would you want to walk under the unrealistically scorching sun to investigate what lies beyond the brown hills you can see in the distance?
What if in the building, you find the main door made of heavy steel unlocked, and behind it, hundreds of white fluorescent tube lights lighting up a long, winding corridor which extends forever?
A few steps down the corridor, if without warning very loud music begins blaring out from invisible speakers, would it make you scream out in shock?
Would the violent overproduced kitschy brew of pianos, strings, guitars and a wailing diva overwhelm you or would it merely be the ear-shattering volume at which the music is being played?
The door leading outside, would that begin to tempt you, to lure you back to the discerningly brown canvas painted by dead imagination?
Amidst the steadily increasing shrieks, would you still be able to notice that the one door at the end of the corridor seems to be opening slowly to reveal a sliver of light?
Would you run, desperate to escape the cacophony, making your heart pump just that little bit faster?
If at that point, you begin to feel heavy, your insides getting enveloped by smog, would you realize that by running you might have kicked off something within you?
Exactly on cue, at that moment, what if your head begins to pound in perfect synchronization with all the veins in your body?
Would you fall to the ground; crawling forward, your mind hazy with shock and some forgotten drug that seems to be rushing back into your system?
Would you begin to claw your way towards the white light, which seems to be getting brighter and hotter by the moment?
What if it starts to hurt when you breathe, forcing you to gasp and shiver, your skinned knuckles and knees leaving a bloody trail? [Did you notice how rough the floor was? How the small, sharp rocks and shards of glass were easily cutting through your skin?]
Have you ever felt death, up close? As your lungs threaten to collapse and the blood continues to drain away, would you be afraid of death, of dying at that moment without knowing who you were?
As you lie on your back, feeling the sharp pricks invade your body, and gasp and feel your tears running down the sides of your face, would you see the tiny red light suspended from the ceiling?
After you wipe your tears, would you see that the tiny red light is attached to a tiny black box and another one behind it, and another one behind that one, until you realize that there is a never ending line of the black boxes with the tiny lights, all cautiously glowing red and all staring right at you?
Before you slip into darkness, what would you make of the couple of shadows that are now visible in the doorway?

As your head falls back with a crunch, the shadows move forward whispering to each other. They tread carefully over the littered floor, rubber soles crunching away, content and almost joyous, and they reach down and gently lift up your [dying?] body. One shadow begins to whistle as he takes out a cartoonishly big steel syringe, pregnant with boiling green brew.
It hurts only a bit at the side of your neck.

When was the last time you woke up without the slightest idea of who you were or where you were?
When was the last time you woke up with your head pounding from what seems to be a hundred whiskey bottle hangover?