Post by Jason1978 on May 10, 2006 10:23:24 GMT -5
DEATH OF A MARTIAN
Bear paws and rascal power
Watching us in your garage
Big girl you ate the neighbor
The nova is over
Wake up and play
Balleradio
Make room for Clara's bare feet
The love of a Martian
Tick tock and waiting for the meator
This clock is opening another door
Lots of love just keep it commin'
Making something out of nothin'
These are the best that I
I don't know how to say
Losin' what I love today
These are the best that I
Lots of love just keep it commin'
Making something out of nothin'
These are the best that I
I don't know what to say
Look at what I lost today
And these are the things that I
Blood flowers in the kitchen
Signing off and winding down
This Martian ends her mission
The nova is over
She caught the ball
By the mission bell
Chase lizards bark at donkeys
The love of a Martian
Let's bow our heads
And let the trumpets blow
Our girl is gone
God bless her little soul
Lots of love just keep it commin'
Making something out of nothin'
These are the best that I
I don't know how to say
Losin' what I love today
These are the best that I
Lots of love just keep it commin'
Making something out of nothin'
These are the best that I
I don't know what to say
Look at what I lost today
And these are the things that I
She's got a sword in case though this
is not her lord in case the one who
can't afford to face her image is
restored to grace. Disappeared. No
trace. Musky tears. Suitcase. The
down turn brave little burncub
bearcareless turnip snare rampages
pitch color pages...down and out but
not in Vegas. Disembarks and
disengages. No loft. Sweet pink
canary cages plummet pop dewskin
forttitude for the sniffing black noses
than snort and allude to dangling
trinkets that mimic the dirt cough go
drink it's. It's for you. Blue battered
naval town slip kisses delivered by
duck muscles and bottlenosed grifters
arrive in time to catch the late show.
It's a beehive barrel race. A sheehive
stare and chase wasted feature who
tried and failed to reach her.
Embossed beneath the box in the closet
that's lost. The kind that you find when
you mind your own mysteries. Shiv
sister to the quickness before it blisters
into the newmorning milk blanket.
Your ilk is funny to the turnstyle touch
bunny whose bouquet set a course for
bloom without decay. Get your
broom and sweep the echoes of
yesternights fallen freckles...away...
Bear paws and rascal power
Watching us in your garage
Big girl you ate the neighbor
The nova is over
Wake up and play
Balleradio
Make room for Clara's bare feet
The love of a Martian
Tick tock and waiting for the meator
This clock is opening another door
Lots of love just keep it commin'
Making something out of nothin'
These are the best that I
I don't know how to say
Losin' what I love today
These are the best that I
Lots of love just keep it commin'
Making something out of nothin'
These are the best that I
I don't know what to say
Look at what I lost today
And these are the things that I
Blood flowers in the kitchen
Signing off and winding down
This Martian ends her mission
The nova is over
She caught the ball
By the mission bell
Chase lizards bark at donkeys
The love of a Martian
Let's bow our heads
And let the trumpets blow
Our girl is gone
God bless her little soul
Lots of love just keep it commin'
Making something out of nothin'
These are the best that I
I don't know how to say
Losin' what I love today
These are the best that I
Lots of love just keep it commin'
Making something out of nothin'
These are the best that I
I don't know what to say
Look at what I lost today
And these are the things that I
She's got a sword in case though this
is not her lord in case the one who
can't afford to face her image is
restored to grace. Disappeared. No
trace. Musky tears. Suitcase. The
down turn brave little burncub
bearcareless turnip snare rampages
pitch color pages...down and out but
not in Vegas. Disembarks and
disengages. No loft. Sweet pink
canary cages plummet pop dewskin
forttitude for the sniffing black noses
than snort and allude to dangling
trinkets that mimic the dirt cough go
drink it's. It's for you. Blue battered
naval town slip kisses delivered by
duck muscles and bottlenosed grifters
arrive in time to catch the late show.
It's a beehive barrel race. A sheehive
stare and chase wasted feature who
tried and failed to reach her.
Embossed beneath the box in the closet
that's lost. The kind that you find when
you mind your own mysteries. Shiv
sister to the quickness before it blisters
into the newmorning milk blanket.
Your ilk is funny to the turnstyle touch
bunny whose bouquet set a course for
bloom without decay. Get your
broom and sweep the echoes of
yesternights fallen freckles...away...