Shackled to a song Not even a Symphony Watching my mind soak in the notes Which I drown in fermented beverage For how else can I choke this verse Of all the plagues it has unleashed It is not done so that I can sing But to show that another song can be sung Yet if I must Sing I shall rise to the pulpit and conduct A hymn of pure silence Until I am inspired by my audience Waiting for this inspiration I shall hold my nations flag And let the cold winds of a Country bear down And grant mute audience to my Harmony Had us a laudable purpose I would have already been singing But as majesty would prevail I find myself enjoying the Darkness And watching all the trash Crumble away Like Kidney stones none of us need.
So there upon the precipice A forlorn shadow Bereft of natural warmth Yet kindled with a fire unnatural To them that the story knoweth Can but piece the fragments of an epoch. Yet they who dare to grasp within their palm sure knowledge Find themselves strangling thorns. The wayward flock that has been led by malice Can do naught but flail about the truly present madness. Made only so by the Dead architect, Who neither knowing Design or Purpose, Cast the entirety of our species into Darkness, For no better reason than to possess coin and rod. Truly, a man can fault not the desires of our forefathers. To instill order, so that hope blooms. To propose purpose, so that civilizations may prosper. To invoke the yolk, so that progress can be relished. These are worthy goals. Yet how flawed in their execution. For none have, until now, risen to steer the reins to newly fashioned demise; None have dared to cry out: “Look out ahead!” We took our favor in giving thanks to our guiding
Verse 1 - The fires have cooled to embers; the smoke has all blown away The bright sunburst of morning, faded to a muted gray You follow the drifting dust, lilting lazily through the air Here in the land down under, soon we’ll have no earthly cares Chorus - Was it an accident or design, when the clock struck its final chime? When the fireworks lit up the night, as brilliant as the morning light? Verse 2 - The radio's turned to static; the screens, all faded to black Geiger sings his lonely song, traipsing down the rusting tracks You feel the photons firing, slicing through your fragile skin Won’t you join us on the beach, and watch the twinkling stars spin Chorus - Was it a god's or devil's power, when the clock struck its midnight hour? When the fireballs lit up the sky, boiled the tears you would have cried? Interlude - Chorus - Was it an accident or design, when the clock struck its final chime? When the fireworks lit up the night, as brilliant as the morning
Verse 1 - She was a bitter mule, unforgiving and cold She didn’t save a lullaby, so I brought my own I couldn’t stop for her; and so she stopped for me We had a night on the town and tore up Memory St. Chorus - Keep your head down, knuckle on through Take a shot for the pain, and give the Devil his due Oh, Madam Moira, won’t you visit me, too? Give me a whisper at night to see mee through Verse 2 - She sailed a shadowy ship down the river of souls The ramps came crashing down with the bell’s final toll. We played a prince’s game on fields of black and white; And listened to the waves in the moon’s pale light Chorus - Keep your head down, knuckle on through Take a shot for the pain, and give the Devil his due Oh, Madam Moira, won’t you visit me, too? Give me a whisper at night to see mee through
Verse 1 – Five hundred days spent under an iron curtain; Five hundred days under the gun. Five hundred lives spent each and every hour; Five hundred souls who’s race is run. Chorus – Slava Ukraini! Slava heroiam! Verse 2 – Five hundred days knee-deep in brown and crimson; Five hundred days out under the stars. Five hundred miles with just the clothes on your back; Five hundred leagues from where you are. Chorus – Slava Ukraini! Slava heroiam! Verse 3 – Five hundred days since the castles came crumbling; Five hundred tears spilled from every door. Five hundred voices crying, laughing, and screaming; Five hundred days– here’s to one more. Chorus – Slava Ukraini! Slava heroiam!
Beguiling Blackbird - Updated by James-Polymer, literature
Literature
Beguiling Blackbird - Updated
Verse 1 – There’s a pallid bust of Pallas perched above my chamber door. There’s a lantern lighting malice; the body cold under the floor. There’s a cat behind the sheathing awaiting richer Earth to till. There’s my sordid soul seething from its perch upon the sill. Chorus – Once upon a midnight dreary; Once upon a winter’s morn. The casket’s closed and eyes are weary; Make your toast and sail the storm. Verse 2 – There’s a pallid, busted palace perched atop an English moor. There’s wine, run from the chalice; the masker’s monocle by the door. There’s a blackbird beguiling; speaking of Iliad undone. There’s a jingling jester smiling, though he’ll never see the sun. Chorus – Once upon a midnight dreary; Once upon a winter’s morn. The casket’s closed and eyes are weary; Make your toast and sail the storm. Interlude – Chorus – Once upon a midnight dreary; Once upon a winter’s morn. The casket’s closed and eyes are weary; Make your toast and sail the storm.
Verse 1 – I’m laying in my bed; the window shades are down. The matron gives a shout, but I don’t make a sound. I am still awake, up here, inside my head. But from the way she screamed, you’d think that I were dead. Verse 2 – I’m laying on my cot; just a prop upon the stage. I am still awake, a lion locked in its cage. The ringmaster gives a sigh, and the clowns’ smiles descend. Then I am wheeled away, and the show comes to an end. Verse 3 – I’m laying in a box, with Old Glory for a shroud. The good parson’s platitudes are echoing, oh so loud. They pull the lid on down, and the walls bob and sway. But I am still awake, no matter how I pray.