Disco lights glitter their way over
life’s rainbow flashing dance floor.
The clouds that we could reach
hide solar capacity;
Do you know, or are you naive?
True love comes with contingencies.
So welcome past the pearly gates,
follow me and keep my pace—
since I’m the one with wings.
Let’s skip cloud nine, the tourist trap;
I’ll take you where the muses sing.
Maybe I’m not brave enough to hold your hand
(but understand, adoring you leaves me delicate—
I changed from sand to glass).
Should our cumulonimbus swell three times its size,
should it begin to shed tears or sleet…
you will find you never knew
you could face a storm with such glee.
(Sadly, our Utopia exists only in the sky,
or the space behind our heavy, ragged, red-rimmed eyes).
Teardrop rains kiss my lips,
and for a moment there is no anguish—
the concept simply does not exist.If ever you were to listen
to my desperate, sweetly toxic hymns, then
please, dearest—listen to this:Despite the weight of your wishes to ascend,
this time I can’t help
(go on and find some wings yourself).
C’est vrai, mon chér, I promise
you might not like how it turns out,
even if you cast your eyes
straight up to the clouds.
The harsh truth is, you’re earthbound,
homesick for the skies.
(and though this angel loves you {very much},
coming back to her may not be so wise).
And up in heaven, she plucks her feathers, uses
white down to dry her eyes.
motion sick metamorphosis
warps and changes him into a shape
Not even his creator could recognize.
life’s rainbow flashing dance floor.
The clouds that we could reach
hide solar capacity;
Do you know, or are you naive?
True love comes with contingencies.
So welcome past the pearly gates,
follow me and keep my pace—
since I’m the one with wings.
Let’s skip cloud nine, the tourist trap;
I’ll take you where the muses sing.
Maybe I’m not brave enough to hold your hand
(but understand, adoring you leaves me delicate—
I changed from sand to glass).
Should our cumulonimbus swell three times its size,
should it begin to shed tears or sleet…
you will find you never knew
you could face a storm with such glee.
(Sadly, our Utopia exists only in the sky,
or the space behind our heavy, ragged, red-rimmed eyes).
Teardrop rains kiss my lips,
and for a moment there is no anguish—
the concept simply does not exist.If ever you were to listen
to my desperate, sweetly toxic hymns, then
please, dearest—listen to this:Despite the weight of your wishes to ascend,
this time I can’t help
(go on and find some wings yourself).
C’est vrai, mon chér, I promise
you might not like how it turns out,
even if you cast your eyes
straight up to the clouds.
The harsh truth is, you’re earthbound,
homesick for the skies.
(and though this angel loves you {very much},
coming back to her may not be so wise).
And up in heaven, she plucks her feathers, uses
white down to dry her eyes.
motion sick metamorphosis
warps and changes him into a shape
Not even his creator could recognize.