Shooting Rockets (From the Desk of Night's Ape)

Caution, hot ashes The girl says to her first kiss They stuck eternity inside a bird's fist just to watch it fly Just to make it go Just to let them slip away Don't ask me how I know I just do Night surgeon dons his robes To take apart a fellow amateur Well I've heard it once said One gives what one gets Oh I didn't go out into this world Just to get stung by rich mans hornets Who amongst us has left these things undone Who let these animals into my kingdom A blind doe learns to work the rig A once thin man turns into a pig The endless groves where my soul pukes the night away The problem as I see it I was messed up On a tangent I was wrong They mix them strong And I was partial to the feeling It's a terrible feast we've been stuffing our faces on A terrible breeze from the east coming on Bearing the scent of our one hundred first kills You love her you leave her You try to achieve But the vision that she has from the start I've got street despair carved into my heart I've got street despair carved into my heart My dear didn't you hear A chorus is a thing that bears repeating And the problem as I see it is Girls stay away from that shit Saw you in Swan Lake you were great Saw you down in Strathcona square devouring an AfterEight Who cares I didn't mean it For your last encore You sawed yourself in half It was just you and your raft and this crummy requiem Shooting rockets Run or fly At some point I had to ask why I had to show you a world not tethered to disasters But this would prove impossible I snuck a look inside your skull and said Don't look now But Gretchen's seeing red again The truth is a thing to coax out of it shell The truth on this you and I are going to tangle Off treacherous bliss off First you come in all sweet And then on tiger's paws you retreat Into a darken nether shadow region Hey are they still serving that piss Shooting rockets And it'd be true what they say Were they to say why yes I dig the scourge It's not that I quit It's not that my poems are shit In the light of the privilege of dreams Alive she cried once now alive she screams Shooting rockets Praise be the delightful muezzin tending his flock Praise be those alabaster hands running amok on your body They love you in spite of your lame scene We live in darkness the light is a dream you see Shooting rockets