" Clay " By Paul Lewis
Hands of clay
Stained on stone
Showers of tears puddle them up.
Memories washed away
Sins are slated clean
No more room for the crazed machine.
No beginnings
No endings
Just " It's happening ".
The endless flower is blackening
There's no room for tommorows
And no way back to " The yesterdayz ".
Must there be a solution?
Must this puzzle be arcane?
No, but I'm always the one to blame.
F*ck the game and f*ck the possibilities
I'm going to do it my way
I will decide who's got the power
And f*ck that flower,
Because it's time for a change
My ways and my needs may be a little strange
Out of range,
But my hands of clay are here to stay
And I will not surrender to an
Impossible dream
I have no mouth, but I want to scream
My imagination.
My eyes are closed shut
My thoughts want to see
I can't proceed,
My brain's divided
Where can I hide it?
Splitted mind, blinded
To my dismay, there is no clay.