Vultures

I hear those wispering winds
of Autumn Glenn
They’re sending me
back there again

Lay your troubles down
and fly with me
Over the self-loathing tortureous fields
of barren fruitless trees

Thoughts you have
are your worst enemies

Release control
let your mind be
Nothing can touch you
unless you feel
No one can hurt you
untill you care

A little taste of death
in everything we say

Truth lies
in a bucket
with the puke
of last night’s rage

But always one more day
for only time shall change

Nothing ever dies in hell
except self-will

Call me crazy but I have seen
vultures circling amongst the trees.
Call me lost but I have found
the living are dying
and the dead abound.

Crazed lunatics running naked out of control
frenzy of a new dawns light flickering in their eyes.

Awaken now to a world of plastic imagery, false dreams
and the morbid reality of a self induced robotic haze.

Play children don't be afraid
your only byproducts of their hidden rage.

Taken from you is all they can't explain
then you're cast aside to do the same.

Cold, pale faces
frolicking in virgin snow

Pilgrims of the new dawn
fumbling and stumbling
to become a part of something they can't understand. 1