On The Devil's Bed
Someone once told me the grass is much greener, on the other side, I would have paid it a visit but I came to terms that my world has gone plastic, In a smog filled universe where there are crosses on a fox's neck, this thunder in my coffee, Lightning in a bottle and a hologram sunset.
I have died a hundred times yet my awakening still leads me back to basics in a mental bohemian rhapsody where all the roads steer me wrong.
Guns and roses in one hand and having picnic with fairies on the other.
Look into my eyes it is where my demons hide, hell is other, it is empty because all the sinners roam earth while I find myself on the Devil's bed where his pillows are sparked stones and his blanket a web of black widow spiders
Spikes in and out through the comforter,
I began to bleed yet the colour of my blood are colours I can not mention,
This dark, gloomy room is like a museum with antiques of the after life. lazy afternoon in this Sleepless City where streets have no name and the Devil has no shame, I choose not to give in but I find myself getting lost in the backstreets, a nostalgic mix.
I find myself wanting to swim to the moon and wanting to wake up with the sun and be on the quest to find the birth of Venus.
This dark, ill-fitting room with skeletons on the ground, a caged old Jezebel in the corner. How I ended up here is not known to me either, say have you seen my mind? I might have lost it. The darkness is getting to me so I opened up the window, the sun delivered light and I realised the room I was in, is mine, that bed, all mine and The devil who was My enemy is My Inner me.
I have died a hundred times yet my awakening still leads me back to basics in a mental bohemian rhapsody where all the roads steer me wrong.
Guns and roses in one hand and having picnic with fairies on the other.
Look into my eyes it is where my demons hide, hell is other, it is empty because all the sinners roam earth while I find myself on the Devil's bed where his pillows are sparked stones and his blanket a web of black widow spiders
Spikes in and out through the comforter,
"Lay down, this bed is a creation of your flaws and imperfections, lay down"it said to me.
I began to bleed yet the colour of my blood are colours I can not mention,
"Do not let it go to waste, lick it all off"it said once more.
This dark, gloomy room is like a museum with antiques of the after life. lazy afternoon in this Sleepless City where streets have no name and the Devil has no shame, I choose not to give in but I find myself getting lost in the backstreets, a nostalgic mix.
I find myself wanting to swim to the moon and wanting to wake up with the sun and be on the quest to find the birth of Venus.
This dark, ill-fitting room with skeletons on the ground, a caged old Jezebel in the corner. How I ended up here is not known to me either, say have you seen my mind? I might have lost it. The darkness is getting to me so I opened up the window, the sun delivered light and I realised the room I was in, is mine, that bed, all mine and The devil who was My enemy is My Inner me.
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