Let's all just start from scratch....

Thursday

War all of the time
In the shadow of the NY skyline.
We grew up too fast.
Now we're falling apart
Like the ashes of American Flags.

If the sun doesn't rise,
We'll replace it with an H-bomb explosion.
A painted jail cell of light in the sky
Like three mile island nightmares on TVs that sing us to sleep.

They burn on and on like an oil field
or a memory of what it felt like
to burn on and on and not just fade away.

All those nights in the basement the kids are still screaming,
"on and on and on and on"

War all of the time
In the shadow of the NY skyline.
We grew up too fast.
Now we're falling apart
Like the ashes of American Flags.

And we're blowing in the wind
We don't know where to land
So we kiss like little kids
We used to be very tall buildings
But we've been falling for so long.

Now your eyes are a sign on the edge of town
they offer a welcome, when you are leaving.

War all of the time
In the shadow of the NY skyline.
We grew up too fast.
Now we're falling apart
Like the ashes of American Flags.

Whe the pieces fall it's like a last-day parade
and the fires in our streets start to rage.
So wave to all the people who long to wave back
from the fabric of a flag that sang LOVE all of the time.

War all the time
War all the time
War all of the time
All of the time...


this revelation is the death of ignorance
tangled in a state of suffocation
slave to self righteousness
damnation is on your lips
from sorrow to serenity, the truth is absolution,
from sorrow to serenity, its on your head
this is my last serenade
i feel you as you fall away
this is my last serenade
from yourself you can't run away
it's your choice, point the finger
but it's on your head
your destination is a choice within yourself
will you rise or become a slave
to self righteousness
open up your heart and gaze within



"I know what lies beneath the snow fields"
When the heart aches in painful misery, yet has no soul to comfort it...what happens then?

Whether a warm light shining within the heart, or simply an aura bound to the flesh, the human soul bears an amazing web of complexity. It unfolds into an endless labyrinth of different emotions, hidden thoughts, and dark secrets.

Yet surprisingly, the human soul also posesses an almost childlike simplicity to its nature. At its inner most core lies the profoundest of truths, so obvious yet somehow overlooked. At its centre hides the heart's simplest but most powerful emotions.

The human soul is so confoundingly mysterious, yet at the same time so artlessly plain.

This uncanny paradox is probably why the heart often draws near the soul in times of trouble. In its aching need for solace during pain, the heart often searches the soul for guidance, just like a compass.

But what happens to those who, whether on purpose or by sheer accident, simply have no souls in their hearts?

When there is no soul to seek comfort in during suffering.. what then? When the heart is torn to shreds by grief and pain, yet finds no solace or succour...what then?

Do such souless creatures hide away from the world outside, preferring the lonely, gloomy one inside? Do they pine away in a corner all alone, tormented by despair?

Or do they simply roam the wasteland of wretched misery inside their own empty, frozen hearts?

Perhaps that is why they call themselves "monsters".