I’ll sleep soundly when I’m dead

Is there fear in your excitement

like a newly unearthed coffin

You can see it from a distance

like a nearsighted eye witness

It comes creeping through the window

you left open while you sleep

Like an unsuspecting victim

you roll over just to see

There’s a shadow in the doorway

sending shivers down your spine

Like a child on a big wheel

cup your hands over your eyes

When you finally build the courage

to admit you’ve lost your mind

There’s just air and heavy breathing

feels like you’ve got the shine

Now you’re choked up glass of water

who left on the kitchen light

And you swear there’s no one listening

still you check the corner twice

Cause it’s somewhere between 3 and 4

the hour’s devil’s prime

It’s the fear in your excitement

in the background of your mind

Monday morning tired pouring

rain falls cold upon your head

It’s a new day maybe Tuesday

I’ll sleep soundly when I’m dead

Wednesday Thursday afternoon

blurs into Friday I’m still wet

From the tears of Saturday’s gone by

Sunday’s a day of rest?

So don’t fight it just accept it

that to fall asleep is hard

When your dreams feel like the raven

and your mind a tell-tale heart

There’s a shrill cry in the alley

that you wish now to explore

It just proves that other’s trauma

spreads itself like works of art.

sad suburban father’s

There’s a black cloud hanging over

the boys playing in the park

While they argue who is correct

mothers watch them from afar

Now there’s Billy screaming loudly

clawing at this boy named Mark

Who his mother she is absent

somewhere screaming in the dark.

It’s a Sunday what a fun day

boy let’s pass the ball around

He’s a shy son name is Ricky

staring at his father now

He is pitching like a Yankee

throwing hard with all his might

All the while there is Ricky

scared to death screaming inside.

There are blue jays singing robins

bugs and inchworms puffy clouds

On the playground there are children

swinging madly laughing loud

Cause it’s Sunday what a fun day

to be playing in the park

Except for Ricky, Billy’s mother

and Mark crying in the dark.

Now the children they all line up

ice cream bells ring all around

He’s a kind man I mean probably

he just smiles at the crowd

Screw-ball sundaes chocolate cookies

candy gleaming in his hand

For the children ask no questions

they just stand and stand and stand.

Now the mothers call the boys in

from the awful looking cloud

Billy’s mother reprimands him

as Mark’s mother has a cow

Oh your father she is shouting

Ricky hears her from afar

As his father whips a fast one

knocking Ricky to the ground.

There are stars now spinning circles

sending shivers down Mark’s spine

While his father who is furious

warns him hell boy you’ll be fine

As Mark stands and sees the dark cloud

fill with light ready to burst

Cats and dogs rain down around him

he thinks what’s he who’s on first.

So the moral of this story

is not what keeps you in line

It’s the people in the park who

I do not wish to define

They are people who like people

look quite normal in the park

While the sad suburban father’s

dingle dangle in the dark.

As Mona Lisa smiles at her Rembrandt

She’s Mona Lisa

looking across the lobby

With her eyes

transfixed on his cold dead body

While the kids line up

single filed and obviously

Unaware that there’s any problem

It’s a warm fall day

colored leaves spin around

And there’s this tired old man

selling shaved ice proudly

Nice to meet you sir

can I help you out

As Mona Lisa

smiles at her Rembrandt now

He was an eye sore for her eyes

it hurt so much still she had to look twice.

And there was something in her smile

lips spread thin like she was in denial.

I didn’t mean to

bother you it’s a habit

I just noticed you

looking lost or sad

With this expression

drawn like a bloody bath

Please now excuse me

I’ve gotta be getting back

Hey wait a minute

won’t you just take a second

To admit that something

is wrong in your head

And if you’d like to

call me sometime and

Chat when you’re feeling

better I’d quite like that

She wrote her name down on his ticket

her area code and seven lovely digits.

Then he wrote in the palm of her hand

a little note that read I think I’d understand.

So Mona Lisa

held her hands calm and steady

Framed herself back

against the wall already

She now felt out of place

like in a fictional setting

While some students

drew her in lines quite badly

What’s the point of hanging around

when rarely any good comes to you in this town.

Thats when she placed her name tag on the floor

and made out for Leonardo exiting the door.

The saint in me is still a sinners son

I look at then

and I see me now

There’s people chanting

standing in a crowd

I wanna join in

try to help them out

But my mouth’s cashed checks

that just seem to bounce

Who be it that you try to believe

Who always turns into a parody

Now brush your teeth and try to behave

They’re all gonna hate you eventually

I look at then

but still see myself

Eyes wide shut

full of fear and doubt

She plucked the fruit

from the apple tree

As I stood staring

still I couldn’t believe

Who be it that you try to become

The saint in me is still a sinners son

Who be it that you try to believe

Now you’re all dressed up living a fantasy

I look at now

like she saw me then

All fed up

fist balled paper and pen

There’s dishes broken

on the kitchen floor

The serpent speaks

in tongues I can’t ignore

Who be it that you thought you saw in me

A break fix and used return policy

Who be it that I thought I saw in you

But what difference does it make there’s an election soon

oh well, oh well. (LOL)

Sometimes I feel like an object of desire.

Sometimes I feel like a down right cruel liar.

Sometimes I feel like nothing ever is

all that bad until then reality hits.

Sometimes I feel sad when you’re away.

Sometimes I feel glad like it’s all the same.

Sometimes I feel like a sad sack sucking up

to the kid with the cool hair that I want.

I don’t know man I guess only time can tell

where we go and when it’s time to give em hell

I just hope that I have the strength to talk

when it comes time to talk who’s gonna walk the walk?

Sometimes it’s all just too much to think about.

Get a real job, good career kid now settle down.

Don’t make your grandmother worry make your mother proud,

even though well hell she’s gonna love you any way.

Sometimes I feel like I’ve got it figured out.

Sometimes I feel like a widow black with doubt.

Sometimes I feel like throwing it all away

if I could just hold out perhaps another day.

Sometimes I feel like Times Square counting down.

Sometimes I feel like a cliche riddled clown.

Sometimes I feel like nothing ever is

but I know better than, but I know better now.

I don’t know man I think you gotta see this through

either way we end up free alone entombed

do you remember sleeping in the afternoon

cause I do I do I do I did and I still do…

Sometimes it makes sense like I’m a wishing well

today it breaks my heart to have to wish you well

tomorrow I won’t lie I won’t be feeling well

then after that who knows I guess

oh well, oh well.

I’ll make it perhaps

The light in here is bad

The shadows hang their heads

I’m tired of this playlist

I’m tired of this bed

In sheets that are not mine

Busted strings don’t pass the time

The shadows hang their heads

In light of what they find

Am I really headed backwards?

Static fills my head

Am I really headed back there

Like I’m the walking dead

So I light the wick

And turn the page

Familiar is this pain

The light in here is fine

The shadows are just that

Perhaps I’m feeling better

Perhaps I’m coming back

Always and forever

Never fine

But

I’ll make it perhaps

artificial berries

She’s

artificial berries

passing in the wind

smiling and joking

contemplating

sea salt

or vinegar

laughing with a friend

while she pretends

to listen I grin

because her

artificial smile

and posture a 10

in the long run

really

makes no difference.