she is
susceptible he is impossible they have their cross to share three of a
perfect pair... he has his contradicting views she has her cyclothymic
moods they make a study in despair three of a perfect pair...
one,
one too many schizophrenic tendencies keeps it complicated keeps it
agggravated and full of this hopelessness what a perfect
mess...
Model Man
look at the signs look at the
symptoms look at the slight calm before the storm I feel the silence I
feel the signals I feel the strain tension in my head well, what more can
be said...
not a model man not a saviour or a saint imperfect in a
word make no mistake but I give you everything I have take me as I
am...
Sleepless
in the dream I fall into the sleepless
sea with a swell of panic and pain my veins are aching for the distant
reef in the crush of emotional waves...
alright, get a hold of
yourself an' don't fight it, it's over your head it's alright, the rumble in your
ears it's alright to feel a little fear an' don't fight it, it's over your head it's
alright, you wake up in your bed...
silhouettes like shivering ancient
feelings they cover my foreign floors and walls submarines are lurking in my
foggy ceiling they keep me sleepless at night...
hey, can you picture the
sight the figures on the beach in the searing night and the roaring hurt of my
silent fight... can you pull me out of this sleepless night can you pull me
out?...
Man With An Open Heart
she wouldn't need to be a bird
without a wing or be a servant to a telephone ring she could be sleeping in
the comfort of another bed... it wouldn't matter to a man with an open
heart here comes right now...
she could be moody, dramatic as a
play or be evasive as a shadow in the shade could be irregular and singing in
her underwear... it wouldn't matter to a man with an open heart here comes
right now...
her wild and wise womanly introspectiveness her faults
and files of foolishness...
wouldn't matter to a man with an open
heart... here comes right now...
Dig Me
it's here I sit and
rust amid this ruin and rancor like tire irons toothy grills and car parts before
me... the acid rain floods my floorboard, burns my pores, and rots my upholstry...
once I was worshipped, polished magnificently, now I lay in decay by the
dirty angry bay...
I'm ready to leave I wanna get out of here I'm
ready to ride away I don't want to die in here I'm ready to ride...
my
skin is metallic now, no longer an elegant powder blue... my body unhinged and
sleeping in the jungle of motor block manifolds and metal relics... what was
deluxe becomes debris, I never questioned loyalty, but this dead end demolishes
the dream of an open highway...