My Socrates

Hey you, close your riven rose

You're a poet, priest of nowhere

And your polished, seemed attitude brings you more

Yeah you, you're a reckless angel

You're a heartbreaking soldier

And your splendid insanities brings you more

So come into my mind and breathe into the morning light

Come into my mouth and breed

So we shake, shake, shake, shake into the sun like an arrow

And we burn, burn, burn, burn into the world once again

You're a sweet-raped hole, such a desolate soul, wearing a crown of M80's

And your livid insanity brings you more

So we shimmer in the shame of gods ethereal rain

Canting happy death heaven eerie blissful and vain

And I'm guilt in the fire irresistible irate

Like burning witches on a Sunday afternoon

And I'm spirit, I'm death, I'm belligerent, I'm clean

I'm not some pretty kill wiseacre

Spit into this dream about stains in my heart

I'm sustained in mimicry

Just to feel holy

I'm feeling old

So I watch the clock tick in the corner of the room

Hungry little black books feeding Sunday schools

And I'm drenched in the fire of a thousand ages

Whoring glories for the pouring man

And I laugh and I laugh as I throw it away

My heart fills empty again and again

And I glisten in the forest of a thousand black roses

Feeling holy and feeling small

And I bleed like Jesus and bleed for you

Like spilling Socrates, imitation to feel

If I were God, I'd watch you fall down

Take me back, take me back

My sleeping angel

The one that ran away