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White Noise
Christ on the cross as is illustrated,
I'm body soft and desintegrated,
I'm in the self half illuminated,
I'm on the call but is distant and faded,
I myself am the robber denied,
I chased all I lost down a spiralling silence
I'm on your side it's just so hard to see you,
I'm on the side of the ghost and the needle.
Is the choice in my hand?
The suicide or the slaughtered lamb?
When it's so full of tricks,
I'll be toasting the gold lights of life,
The trail is cold and hard,
The course of the light of the child,
A slow messenger,
I'm in charge of the coal and the fire.
White noise calling on a sudden deluge,
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I'm chased out of breath trying to come back to you,
I'm in arrest of the subtle hues,
I'm in the self sick solitude,
Sky's falling soft to the silence renewed,
I erased all the tops from the tall city view,
I'm in the flesh of the hungering few,
I'm on the call trying to get back to you.
Is the choice in my hands?
The suicide or the slaughtered lamb?
When it's so full of tricks,
I'll be toasting the gold lights of life,
The trail is cold and hard,
The course fo the light of the child,
A slow messenger,
I'm in charge of the coal and the fire.
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