Strike a match that ignites the souls of our feet
If we decided to take a face that belongs to no one
We’ll dress the radios up in wigs
And sell portraits of flashbulb diaries
Look to the sky from your self-pity cubicle
Look to the scars and you may contort
A life of shadows and luxury indisputable
You’ll plug your privacy in life support
Scratch the itch on top of your gun
Keep running, stay away from the bees in the fray
Did you see the pothole that you dug
As you fell in when they chased you from me
Look to the throat that your princ and pauper share
Do they wear it with a camera in mind
Look to the throne that you emptied without care
To run with me and hide from time
If you need no introduction
And if they steal my fingerprints
They’ll only need a retinal confession
to find you
and If the dark room finds the answer
they will not need my fingerprints
but I will throw myself above you
to save you
Thursday, March 6, 2008
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