Lars Art

I gotta change things.
Gotta give up pushing on and on and on.
Maybe I should have held on to some of those hopes for better days.
Now I find myself repeating actions so self defeating
Soul left floating on the breeze
Nothing ever flows like it used to
Only discarded lines to cling to

"whatever happens don't tell him we smoked all that w**d"
"Sir, you're leaning out your window to tell me this"
"Yeah well when he gets here act cool"
"Sir I'm the officer, and there's no one else with you inside the vehicle"
"Well if that's everything I'll just be taking off, I hate driving when the buzz wears off"
"Sir step outside the vehicle"

I will die alone
In a way we all die alone
In every sense I'm sure
I will die alone

Yet I live alone
More than most
Less than some
Nonetheless alone

There's those out there
That never get a chance
Though the years slip by
Less and less do I try

Hands unheld
Lessons not learned
Magic dispelled
Adventure spurned

I hear some wear earrings
Worth the cost of a burial
Not a bad thought
As life becomes immaterial

The fire that burns with the urge to go on has gone out
The years all spurned and left to hang out
Drying slowly in a memory that seems to have run out
Clouds turn grey but the rain refuses to fall out

Left that out laying where I shouldn't again
Don't think I'll ever take that walk again
Drifting to the beat of no drum over again
Flowing down the same paths over and over again

The world outside may be starting to die now
The powers there are already fraut now
The sun passes on as it did then as it does now
When it all changes we will cherish now

Saw a possum last night
The moon is getting fatter
My eyes aren't what they used to be
And even that was not so good

Saw a man with only one foot
See him all the time...
There's another one I see
I thinks it both the same foot, the left

Saw a man with a "go on Brandon" tee
Wanted to punch him in the mouth
But I was working
Thats where I see the footless fellows

Wind been strong tonight
Someone said it would snow
What percentage of snowmen are called frosty 80-90%
I've never made one

Accidentally scared the cat
Think she'll get over it
She's a cool cat
With or without pajamas

Saw a possum again
Think it was the same one
The hour grows ever later
The moon is red amongst the clouds

The uses of cats in the English language is really messed up. First of all there's "letting the cat out the bag" - Who put the cat in the bag in the first place? Why would you put a cat in a bag? For no innocent reason surely. It's certainly not going to be beneficial for the cat. And anyway that phrase means letting out a secret. So now the cat in the bag is some kind of conspiracy. Let the damn cat out the bag. It's not your cat! Then there is the phrase "Enough room to swing a cat"- is that why they put it in the bag? To swing it around? Better than by the tail. What practical purpose could you possibly achieve by swinging a cat anyway? Proving you're a sadistic bastard, so people leave you alone? That's even without mentioning the biggest red flag of them all. "There's more than one way to skin a dead cat" My god the idea! How many have you tried? Bad enough to skin one cat, but to master many separate styles. Thankfully it specifies a dead cat, but then maybe that just means there's only one way to skin a live one!

Lines that won't be drawn
Nights turned into dawn
Faces all a-scream
In and out of dreams
Writing to find a cure
Writing to find some more
Shadows apon the page
To break the proverbial cage
Nightmares let me in
Unabsolved of sin
To gaze upon the jaw
Of infinity's great maw
A man becomes a memory
Remembered temporarily
All that shines shall fade away
Darkness held futilely at bay
Wind blows dust eternally
The clock ticks on mercilessly
And no matter where we lie
Life just passes by

All our lives
Bombs have been dropping
And it's become quite clear
That nobody has any idea
When all of this will be stopping

The cries of children
The destruction of the old
The theft of generations
Not enough to stay the powers
The march of war strides on

It grows bigger by the hour
History distorted
Before our very eyes
They don't need to burn the books
They never get to write

The value of peace ignored
Eclipsed by the profits of war

Snails on the doorstep
But I want to get inside
Thunder in the forecast
The wind is on the rise
Birds in the distance
Taking call and taking flight
Climate is concerning
And I want to get inside
But theres snails on the doorstep