CRIPPLED HEARTS

CRIPPLED HEARTS
THAT BEG TO LOVE
LIKE BROKEN WINGS
ON CRIPPLED DOVE
IS PEACE A THING
WE VALUE LESS
THAN MONEY POWER
AND THE REST

EYES SO SOFT
A FACE SO SMALL
CRUSHED BENEATH
THE STRONG AND TALL
CRIPPLED WINGS
IN CRIPPLED FLIGHT
WHEN IF EVER
WAS THIS RIGHT

LITTLE HANDS
THAT TOUCH THE SKY
LITTLE LOVES
THAT PASS US BY
TEARS FROM LONELY
HEARTS THEY FLOW
LIKE BLOOD TO
EVERYWHERE THEY GO

CRIPPLED LEGS
ON CRIPPLE CREEK
LIFE IS MORE THAN
TONGUE AND CHEEK
BUT CRIPPLED HEARTS
ARE LONELY DAYS
THAT PEEK AT LIFE
IN CRIPPLED WAYS

WARS ARE WAGED
BY WEAKER MEN
WHO’S GREED AND LUST
BECOME OUR SIN
IT CRIPPLES US
WITH PASSING TIME
THESE CRIPPLED THOUGHTS
FROM CRIPPLED MINDS

Robert Parker Jameson Mar 14, 2008

ANGEL MERCY MOTHER MAYHEM

ANGELS CRY
AND WATCH THE WAR
CRYSTAL TEARS FALL
TO THE FLOOR
FEATHERED WINGS
AND GOD'S OWN HAND
ARE SCATHED BY FIRE
JUST LIKE THE LAND

MAN'S MACHINE
OF DOUBLE THREAT
HAS NOT FOUND
A WINNER YET
GROANS LIKE
TORTURED CATTLE SOUND
COUNTS EACH LOSS
AND LOSES GROUND

ANCIENT MYSTIC
MOOD SADISTIC
WE COULD STOP IT
IF WE'D RISK IT
KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT
NEVER SAYING
THOUGHTS THAT DEEP
INSIDE YOU'RE PRAYING

ANGEL MERCY
MOTHER MAYHEM
INSIDE OUT
MY OTHER STRAY HAND
DOESN'T KNOW
WHAT IT IS HOLDING
HEARS ITSELF
ANOTHER SCOLDING

SOMEWHERE SOMEHOW
FIND THE GUMPTION
STOP THE MECHANISMS
FUNCTION
HERE I AM
BUT HERE WHAT FOR
TO STOP THE GODDAMNED
FUCKING WAR

Robert Parker Jameson April 25, 2008

COSMIC DREAMIES

WILLOW WEEPS
SUCH TEARS LIKE BLEEDING
NEVER FINDING
WHAT SHE'S NEEDING
IVY CRAWLS AROUND
EACH CORNER
OF HER DREAMS
THAT DIED THEY MOURN HER

SEPARATE TIMES
AND SEPARATE PLACES
DANCING GAZE
OF MYSTERY FACES
SHE CAN CALL ON
ALL HER SADNESS
REALIZE HER
LONELY MADNESS

DIMNESS IN EACH
EYE OF LOATHING
SEEN IN CHOICES
OF HER CLOTHING
CAN NOT STAND
SOME MORE BAD NEWS
SHE HIDES HERSELF
IN HIGH HEELED SHOES

SHE'S THE ANGEL
COME TO FETCH YOU
BACK TO ALL THE THINGS
THAT GET YOU
AMPLIFIED
IN ALL DIRECTIONS
NOTHING SHORT
OF HER PERFECTIONS

COSMIC DREAMIES
ON THE CEILING
SHADOW SINGS
TO EMPTY FEELING
THOUGHTS OF LOVE
AND THOUGHTS OF HATE
HER FURNITURE
CAN LEVITATE

SPIN THE SPIDER
SPIN THE SILK
NEVER SPILL
THE MOTHER'S MILK
OF WISDOM'S MORSEL
ALL SHE'S GIVING
YOU FOR FREE
TO KEEP ON LIVING

Robert Parker Jameson April 30, 2008