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Confessions From The Front Seat Of An Old Blue Car
05/17/2007 @ 8:49pm

Confessions From The Front Seat Of An Old Blue Car

The passenger
Dwells inside a cage of sadness
Swallows the bitter taste of deceit
And madness
The driver
Is blind, and losing all control
Steering them further into the abyss
Quietly they wait for the crash
But it never comes
They speed deep into another city
And more strange days
Tearing into their logic
And removing the resolve
Replacing it with emptiness
Their eyes bleed awful pangs of torment
That are seared into their minds
It's just a day to day thing
A few more melancholy endings
So much to find
But nothing worth knowing
The light
Shines over and through the night
They line the highway
Like ants following a trail of death
The smell
Lingers, scaring away the life that once lived on this street
The stars
Laugh and taunt them
Remind them their small and insignificant
Where are they going?
From where did they come?
Are they alone?
Or utterly absent from the realization of the crowdedness of the night
Where are the thoughts they spoke of yesterday
Drowned and buried with the cold of winter
Or are they too lost
Looking for a place to enjoy again
The fall
Of the cool night, tragically they fight truth like unknown soldiers
The same battle they've waged over and over
The war
Won't end
But at least they can still pretend
And now it's dawn
The passenger
Dwells inside the cage of sadness
Swallows the awful taste of these lonely nights
And madness
The driver
Is blind and losing all control
Crashing deeper and deeper into the abyss
They wait for the end
And then it comes
The grave
Is still
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