I feel Sanziband reaching up from the Dead Sea.

It doesnt feel dead right now.

It feels an awful lot like me.

A me i pretend i dont see.

A me i lock out with bolts and dreams and parthenon seams.



I feel death as real now as the day of my birth

The mistress reminds me my old commitments come first.

Clutching a golden fleece with no lining, i know my life is cursed.

Cursed with a gift; I know of my siblings i will take that ice bath swim the worst.



Life just becomes dull when you know whats coming

Standing in dark hallways, i can see the fat lady drumming.

and i spend my solitude like cheap pennies while running.

Running from the bottle, the point, the sniff, but something

has given me peace; i have given up on my cunning



So, back to the bottle it is for I

I will be floatin down a road headed to the sky

waiting for peace and a release to become candy for my eyes.

Time to make things happen again, and i will have to burn others like lye.