William Doyle
Counterfeit Moon
tell it to the boys who don't have a cluethey tried to swing low from the rising moonbut gravity's logic is falling behindpretty soon, we will be able to climbthe melodies are holding up the other starsand the resonant frequencies are sounding from afarand all of those kids with their hands in the airtried to touch reflections of the winding stairsthat lead us to where our conscious endsand even our imagination struggles to defendthe depth and the waste of a deep, deep placewhere nothing is apparent and our steps are not tracedtoo much to comprehend in such a tiny roomcan't tell the lies from the blatant truthso I made another deal with the devils of fate and said"I never want to come back to this place"some songs last longer in our ringing earsso we sing them over and over againand some words speak louder than all of our fearsso we don't have to relive them againcut yourself trying to grasp at the starpointed edges and a permanent scarright across your body in an instant or twonever look back unless you really have toarbitrary lines in your black notebookyou blame all your peers for the time they tookjust to say single thing to your weary facesilence will put you back in your place
From Letras Mania