Courtyard Courtship

Um, thanks everybody for coming out tonight
Um, Lukas Pierce on the bass
Thanks Lukas

The magistrate's war worn suits
And I froze courtside in my hoodie and shell toes
Painfully aware of my surroundings
All at once, the whole mood compressed into static
Binding the molecules of life, into love, into lust
Into innate inner-child's thoughts of we chasing the sky
That fell into the sea that we created for ourselves to be self-absorbed by
And by passing, the words of the horn player's blasting song
Sang, sing-song melodies of modern-day core themes
Themes for schemes of dreams for you to look through
Picture frames of nameless names and games that we played in the courtyard
Before the turn of the century
When you lost yourself into your self-loathing
Appeal for help, and peeled off the skin of your teeth
To be reached by unreachable heights
Surrounded by bright lights and dim-lit dinners
To match cross-hatched sketches of simplicity
The mysticism of your aura had crashed into glass shards of ego
That only you could reconstruct

Self-destruct, my influx, mood themes
And fragile forms for you to fill out. signing your name on the line
Signing bonus for the homeless ones outside of the courtyard
Do you remember?
I played croquet that summer with swollen dreams for us to become us
And trust to become truth, and truth to become known

I wrote a poem to commemorate the journey of thought
Time passing out flyers for the show of the century
I walked into a penitentiary of thought
My disposable pen served as a disposable hero
But brain-locked my hands
And the only words to be found were absurd words of absurd thoughts
And insane actions to follow suit of my being
The tea parties and mid-afternoon chats
Broken into informal combat strategics and songs of war
Never before had I seen the unseen hands of fate
Pull strings of demon-shaped puppetry in my life
On my future wife, on my future life
This piece of cake is still on the table
From the day when I decided to settle for crumbs. do you remember?
Brain-numbing aspirations of we formed we once again
But then again, we were not as we. appeared to me
Appeared to be true, but true was subjective to time frames
And 24-bit color palettes and digital mallets
The vine ties. was this a dreamscape for my shaping to testify?
Were you a lie? Was I a lie?
Could I rely on perceived themes?
I saw the mountains collapse and the teardrops that overflowed the landscape
And washed away my mindscape
As I sat alone, with no more thoughts to dwell on