The Marionette


Definitions are circumstantial like courtroom evidence
Your red is not my red
Well I'd never jump ship, but this boat is surely sinking,
you don't like my words, well I take them someplace else

Without an anchor you're left with empty hands,
clawing at sand, we are the undercurrent of our age,
just like the riptide we'll suck you in

Your red is not my red

Today the paper read: Another Teenager Found Dead;
laying face down a syringe screaming the unsaid

Crutches for sale Your addictions kill

Without an anchor you're left with empty hands,
clawing at sand, we are the undercurrent of our age,
just like the riptide we'll suck you in

What's the point in lying when the truth is this fun?
If you don't like my words I'll carry them some place else







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