Thursday, July 14, 2011

The World Outside


A month's too long to stay and wait,
He has nothing to do, and he's getting late.
Sits out the days, and eyes on the screen,
With silent complains; it's what he's been.
Oh no, he's all alone,
He feels let down, cause he's on his own.
Lying and denying to how things have gone,
The world outside stands dark and lives unknown....

Outside the window...

The sun, set to burn, burns a thousand soles,
A child, forgets to smile; the cost of getting old,
Serving drinks, wants to think but he cant understand.
What debt he pays out, to the working class man...

A path, aftermath, that she chooses to take,
One girl, against a world saying its a mistake.
Run away, from hate, and the shadows of doubt,
Finds out what her life is all about!

Oh no! He's all alone,
He feels left out; sitting safe at home.
Lying and denying to how things have gone,
The world outside stands dark and lives unknown....

Heartbeat, on the street, begging for some food,
Dirty face, fall from grace, no one thought he would,
Man the road, his abode; no roof above his head,
Sidewalk turns into a permanent bed.

Rock-hard, boulevard, and he's out on the wheels,
Strong guy, false eye; with the scars that he feels.
Hits the brake, too late; a crowd's making fuss,
Play-time comes to end, crushed under the bus.

Oh no! He's all alone,
He feels left out; sitting safe at home.
Lying and denying to how things have gone,
The world outside stands dark and lives unknown....

A month's too long to stay and wait,
He has nothing to do, and he's getting late.
Sits out the days, and eyes on the screen,
He feels the worst that he's ever been.
The room is a tad bit cold and dim,
Feels like the weight of the world's on him.
His mind hovers along in discontent,
Keeps wondering where everyone went.

Oh no, he's all alone,
He feels let down, cause he's on his own.
Lying and denying to how things have gone,
The world outside stands dark and lives unknown....

Friday, June 24, 2011

Anyway.

The skies don't lie,
It's that time of year again.
Truth be told,
The walls keep closing in.

With crystal skin, you're seventeen,
Kept on thinking, where'd you been.
Who's to know? Who's to say?
It doesn't matter anyway.

The winds are cold,
The stars shine dead for you.
Kept playing on,
Thoughts in my head, of you.

The scent of spring, Is fading in.
Kept on waiting, where've you been?
Who's to know? What's to say?
It wouldn't matter anyway.

A window mist,
Covers the road ahead.
Why can't we turn,
And go back home instead?

The hand of fate, is on our hearts.
It wants us away and far apart.
Who's to know? Who's to say?
It wouldn't matter anyway.

The flower beach,
Lost its veins because;
The hearts it tied,
have fallen out of love.

With opened arms,
I see the pouring rain.
I close my eyes.
Hope it's just a dream.

But a pricking pin, is sinking in.
Moments spent through thick and thin.
Will anything ever be the same?
Are things that can't be washed by rain.
Who's to know? Who's to say?
It wouldn't work out anyway...

Anyway...

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

UG Riot (Church)

Blank out thoughts of tomorrow,
We're gonna drink to sorrow,
Stack our bile up on a platter,
'Coz, In the end it doesn't matter.

Bleached out from all depression,
Compressed with warm congestion,
Sultry breath and twisted navels,
Of the helpless and the rebels.

Gather 'round; join hands, for this one-track, one-night stand...

Riot in the underground,
Swaying arms to the lusty sounds,
Losing faith, going far away,
Just to come by another day.

Riot in the underground.
Damp emotions, burnt and drowned.
Someone help! We've gone astray.
But it doesn't matter anyway..
. . .

Ground powder, addiction doses,
On hallucinated beds of roses.
Pricking thorns and rusty cushions,
Covered with slime of confessions.

Dusky eyes and a smoky ceiling.
Neon lights, and a sinking feeling.
Gonna set the world on fire,
Take a stand on top of the pyre,

Gather 'round. Join hands, for this one last, one-night stand!

Riot in the underground,
Swaying arms to the lusty sounds,
Losing faith, going far away,
Just to come by another day.

Riot in the underground.
Damp emotions, burnt and drowned.
Someone help! We've gone astray.
But it doesn't matter anyway..
. . .


Sunday, April 10, 2011

Hate


I tread with hatred in my step.
I arrive, with a burning heart.
Return; to take back, what is mine,
And come to tear you apart.

Your eyes were a tint of viridian pale,
As you stabbed me where I lay.
Plunged a dagger, deep in my spine,
And left, as I rotted away.

But the grim had others plans for me,
So I stand; and do be warned.
No wrath in hell's as blind and vile,
As the soul that you had scorned.

So, celebrate this morbid sunset,
Dance to the mandolin, one last time.
Distance yourself from regrets.
Until my blade cuts through your mind.

I come to guide you towards your end;
A revenge, that I penned in silence.
As I strike up a bonfire of intent,
To sever the strands of your existence.

Do not grimace at me, when I say,
That my hatred is a virtue.
Turn, and look me in the eye.
And I promise, that I will hurt you.


And when the war-horns stop to sound,
Your destiny shall be addressed,
That pride shall perish underground.
When on your heart, with forced finesse,
My vendetta; I would finish to paint.
Without pitiful mercy or rebate,
And then shall fall, the mighty saint,
With this blade of mine, that I call "hate".



Trouble in Paradise

This town is breaking up, on a joy-ride.
Rifts and sorrow, cracks the world inside.
The souls keep tugging on the chains of thought.
As free will decays, and perception rots.
The bands play a tone of misery.
We point to ourselves, and I point at me.
What was the sole reason, for faith to break?
Was it all planned out, or a just bad mistake?

The sky is set alight by a sudden flare.
Strangers flying by, can't help stop and stare.
While all we ever fought for, was liberty.
Didn't know we're bearing torches of anarchy.

Down a pint of nostalgia,
'Cause the seams have come undone,
The seams have come undone...
As a Dreamland floating in the sky,
Has been deserted, and abandoned.
And now; it's crashed and burnt.

Drain all your feelings,
Because, the pain has just begun.
The pain has just  begun.
As a Dreamland floating in the sky,
Was deserted and abandoned.
And now; it's crashed and burnt.
. . .

Clinging to horizons graft in sight and sound,
While screams of joy filter underground.
Now, all I want to do, is think this world into dust,
Our faith keeps on leaking, but it's covered in rust.
One king is gone astray, while two stay back,
Prayers of doubt fill the swelling cracks.
And right before our eyes, trees turn into stone,
Is this end, the beginning of us walking alone?

The ground shakes alive, in circumvention,
We all sing in silence for an intervention.
Coz we never really thought that we'd come so far,
The blemish, now turned into a burning scar.

Down a pint of nostalgia,
'Cause the seams have come undone,
The seams have come undone...
As a Dreamland floating in the sky,
Has been deserted, and abandoned.
And now; it's crashed and burnt.

Drain all your feelings,
Because, the pain has just begun.
The pain has just  begun.
As a Dreamland floating in the sky,
Was deserted and abandoned.
And now; it's crashed and burnt.
. . .

Friday, April 8, 2011

Lapdog

Can you feel the world turn?
Into a comedy of falling shit.
Ruled by a talentless mass,
Of  harlots and hypocrites.
And you're their 'audience',
As they whore for attention.
They don't care what you think,
Unless you pay per circumvention.

You're just a lapdog,
And you fetch what they desire.
Slowly, turn you into,
A commercial satisfier.
With your tragic maturity,
All you can do is make-believe,
But they're just neo-extortionists.
Don't even know that we exist.
Indulging in social masturbation,
Mapping the decay of our generation.
To them, everyones just another view,
Doesn't matter if it's me or you...
. . .

Through a million subway tubes,
And wires, tangled on a graph;
Can you hear the cynical tone,
Of a fading nervous laugh?
Thats intended towards you and,
Every subscription that you make.
And every little thing you do, here on.
Is just one more big mistake.
Cause, you're a lapdog,
And you fetch what they desire.
Lately, you've turned into,
A commercial satisfier.

But you'll beg to differ, now,
Try and make up arguments, somehow.
As you realise, that you've been used.
Fooled, manhandled, played, abused.
But in the end, the truth doesn't change,
No matter how much you rearrange.
And there is nothing left to say,
'Cept every Lapdog, has his day.

. . .

Monday, April 4, 2011

Brat

Yes, I did write this as a hate song. Yes it is based on someone I know. No, I don't hate the person. Okay, maybe I do, but I choose to ignore him\her. Enjoy "Brat"...

BRAT

You've been growing up,
As your parent's favorite son.
And that probably, is because,
You're just the only one.
Leaving behind, glaring trails,
Of abuse and white lies.
Everyone's your enemy,
And you're always victimized.

But trust turns to dust, and faith does rust,
When you bite beyond what you need.
The world starts to rot, and your fallacies are caught,
If you slit the wrist of a hand that feeds.

Growing up, a brat,
Now you get your due dose of reality.
Like a diplomat; fallen from his perch of neutrality.
Get used to these shackles,
Not like you deserved anything else.
Cause all-in-all, you've brought this upon yourself.
Brat.

 Now you're laying down,
On a pile of cheap regrets.
Lamenting shallow words,
And smoked-out cigarettes.
Thinking to your morose self,
That the whole world is unfair.
Talking to yourself, in denial,
Singing that nobody cares.

You won't amend; just pretend,
You will flatter, beg, and you will plead.
You're a liar and a cheat, and you won't retreat,
To slit the wrist of a hand that feeds.

Growing up, a brat,
Now a full-size bulging lump.
Your mind ought to be served with the sanctity of junk.
Take a look around,
At all the lives and dreams,you've screwed;
And tell your asphalt brain that it's all because of you!
Brat.


Thursday, March 31, 2011

YOU WENT?!

This is an old old song that  wrote in about class 9 for a friend who moved, :|
Kinda amateur, but it made me laugh, so decided to share it :)


What happened to our autumn plans?
What ever happened to kicking cans?
What about the brand new band,
That we were gonna make?!

What happened to slipping pills?
What about our fake fire-drills?

What about "just keeping it real",
Was it all a big mistake?!


And now our pictures lie,

Across my bedroom floor.
I'm boiling up in anger, coz,
You're not here, anymore!

We grew up together,
So I don't think that i'll move on!
And I know it's half my fault,
'Cause now you're gone.

What happened to sleepless nights?

What about our imaginary plights?
What happened to our petty fights?
Did they all go down the drain?!


Why's your dad an ambitious git?

He could've refused, and that'd be it.
We wouldn't be caught up in this shit,
He should call up and explain!


And now, you've bid goodbye,
To your forty-six, GG home.
Great going! now both of us,
Are sad and are alone!
We grew up together,
So I don't think that i'll move on!
And I know it's half my fault,
'Cause now you're gone!!

Is this a part of growing up?
Coz it blows!
I miss you like you said you miss me.
And I guess, it shows..
We grew up together,
So I don't think that i'll move on!
And I know it's half my fault,
'Cause now you're gone!!





Sunday, March 27, 2011

Local Lass

Everything that she's ever wanted,
Has come gatecrashing, on her heels.
Leaving her flustered and disjointed.
Trying to find out what is real.

And when her show was finally aired,

Her heart and guts took a leap to hell.
It made her wonder what she wanted.
And why she did this to herself.

Yet, It makes me cry, and makes me laugh.

When the local lass, and her photograph,
Is on the news; and juggled in the press,
Not like I could've ever guessed.

She was young, and she was sweet,

Her heart was free, yet so discreet.
Now that she's got her printed blessing,
The local lass, has gone missing.
...

Maybe now, she's slowly finding out,

What she had imagined, wasn't so.
Does she open her eyes every morning,
Thinking she's got nowhere to go?

Did nobody ring the warning bell?

Did she really feel, she was all alone?
And now that everyone's just a guest,
Can she leave her house and go back home?

Maybe it's her social epitaph,

When the local lass, and her photograph,
Is broadcast live, and printed in the press,
Not like I could've ever guessed.

And seeing her, maybe I've realised,

Sitting on the other side, of flashing lies,
That the telivision is an extortionist.
It doesn't even care that we exist.
...

But she was young and she was sweet.

Yet now, that the whole world's at her feet,
Amidst the chirping and the hissing,
The local lass, has gone missing.



Reflections (SMM)


Sweet Mother Mary


Sweet Mother Mary,
How long has it been?
I haven't rested in you lap for so long.
I'm going places,
And everything I've seen,
Makes me feel that I can't be strong.

Held me in your arms,

And lied through your teeth,
Cushioned every single step that I've taken.
Now that you're going,
The sound of your feet,
Attest to how badly we were mistaken.

Sweet mother Mary,

Don't leave me behind,
Buy me a Mirror, so I can see myself more clearly...

Help me cover up,

All these holes in my mind,
Coz I don't miss your touch, so much, so dearly...
. . . 

Sweet Mother Mary,

You knew this would come.
Why didn't you stop when the signs, flashed bright-red?
You knew I was weak, 
I'd eventually succumb.
And so here, you leave me for good, and for dead.

Is this how its meant?

Is this what you want?
Coz' right now, I'm hurt, crippled and I'm confused.
I've been dropped hard,
But I can't carry on,
To break these binding chains, of personal abuse.

Sweet mother Mary,

Don't leave me behind,
Buy me a Mirror, so I can see myself more clearly...

Help me cover up,

All these holes in my mind,
Coz now I don't miss your touch, so much, so dearly...
. . .

Sweet Mother Mary, Please don't misinterpret,

I'm ready for solitude, but I haven't learnt, yet.
So I don't want your perceptions anymore,
All I need is my reflection, and I'm sure.
I should look into my eyes, and maybe turn away,
I need to break the shackles, so please, hear me say,

"Sweet mother Mary,

You're faith's torn apart.
By the blade of trust that you'd hung o'er my soul."

"Your mind is in pieces,

And there's doubt in your heart,
As you walk away, knowing that you've lost all control."


"I'm free"
. . .