(Here's For Our There's)

wine tripped veins and guitar strung boys could
cross to form the most musical void if
i could numb my tongue with the heat of your voice
and split the words from my mind into air with the tap of your chords
or maybe i just want to think someone's beautiful
and i'm incapable of saying what i really feel
to find out all the thoughts i say aren't so true
and it's only convenience that's key for
this modern day girl of bedroom irrelevance and
drug blood innocence who saw
you and your There and said he
is a Where for my Here to go to and be for
a motivation of the None Too Easy in this
sleep awake place for the Day Dreamers Deceased
who used to lie awake in scratchboard daisy traces thinking
life was more worthy of romanticism than the romantics who gave it
labels and names and mathematical planes for existence and
educational sames that take you nowhere but left you somewhere
beneath a game of Come Connect The Dots and watch as we
dance beneath paper maker's constellations and disinvested needs
that had Said Dreamers stuck in sonnets or solvents or something
equally as toxic like all artist's End through their only Been
and how they wouldn't trade it for a nap in a room full of lilies since
they'd been waiting for this every time they dressed to the nines
eccentric in their non-violence and non-committal in their admittance of visual over verbal
that never gave a context for you or my lies or
imaginary personas to keep with all need to see in or to be
but let theatrical leads have somewhere outside the stage to act
our needs after a misjudged hand scratched out their daisies and Any's plans
to make motions that might make Honesty's defenders a
place for some case to lace your lungs with
air you never meant to breath
but had difficulty predicting this siege that overcame me as i
lived like Hours in your room
saying like you that nothing becomes of what we didn't do and
maybe like me I was just a Here to you too