[Frames of fiction]

Hi, I'm tired and you're just drunk.
Stains and nicotine and coffee rings and magazines
The rush.

You have a way with agression
Fists clenched and nuckles white
We make the best of the tension
It feels so right. The light
Let's fight tonight. Tonight.

Violence is my kind of fashion
Endless amounts in store
More than you'd ever imagine
With walls and floors
and windows, lights and doors.
There's more

In these frames of fiction
Letting go
Always one bird missing
from the glow

These suits have to go
This tie around my throat
Dreaming, Motive, Technique
flood my sleep

In these frames of fiction
Letting go
Always one bird missing
from the glow

DMT is killing me
Dimethyltryptamine.

[Lyrics]

Here's just a collection of my finished lyrics.

You, Me and Everything around Us
Let's fool gravity. Hide and let it find us.
Your eyes cripple me. Life tugs at our strings.

Dive in. Straight down. Gunshot. Point blank.
Granite. Empty. Vented. Lovely.
Speaking loudly. Fuck you. Sorry.
Out of shape, we're rusty.

I keep fightling sleep just to watch your breathing.
Stereo heartbeats. Lace and nudity.

We laugh and sing. The alcohol plays tricks on me.
We dance in streets and choose not to remember.

So you...
kiss me where it hurts. Fuck me up on purpose.
Mouthing out the words. Swearing at the earth.
Comfort grows on me but never quite floats to the surface.
Watch our bodies sink together. Love needs company.

We make a scene and grope eachother shamelessly.
Forget our feet and pretend to be sober as we
laugh and sing. The alcohol plays tricks on me.
We dance in streets and choose to remember.

Skinless Passion
Animated breath becomes your death.
The kill. Give in.
Overrated love becomes your glove.
The will. The win.

Like the velvet rope around
your chalk outline there on the ground.
The neon lights that you out shine
just prove life had you confined.

Seeking carnal lust. The tears and fuss
of holding still.
Grasping satin sheets. The pulse and beats.
Our sweat the chill.

Window panes have crashed.
Feel the pain of glass.
Even lips of poison have their charm.
A voyeur's privacy's
where the bullets meet.
Hear as feathers set of car alarms.

Raise your glass, a toast to knives and ghosts.
Respect the sin.
Taste the new and old. The wine is cold.
Repress a grin.

Scream the dial-tone. Pick up the phone.
I need to speak. ("911. What is your emergancy?")
Ringing off the hook. We both mistook
the 1's for 3's. ("You have to come here! I think I love here!")

Flash and shutter speed expose
the manequin that death has posed.
They draped and sheet and closed her eyes
but no one looks surprised.

Window panes have crashed.
Feel the pain of glass.
Even lips of poison have their charm.
A voyeur's privacy's
where the bullets meet.
Hear as feathers set of car alarms.

Ash cuts through the dust
as the lovers blush.
Even skinless passion has it's charm.
Let the neighbors see
every inch of me.
Hear as bodies set off car alarms.