Song For MJ.

It's very sobering to wake up, stare at your own reflection in grotesque fascination, and have no idea who you are.

Why can't it (ever) be the same? (again)
It makes me feel.
'Memento mori' etched out in black ink,
But I already knew that
And we oscillate
Between love and hate.

See, it wasn't my choice.
It struck me by surprise.
And it's so tragic
So.

Ignorance is bliss
I concur.

But when you're nice,
You're nice.
And when you make me happy,

What do you want?
What do I want?
Odd world. Loopy contradictions
Sick irony - black humour.

i want.
it to be straightforward.
knowing that it won't ever be.
i lie deep in muddy waters
drenched in regret
and (personal) failure.
so far out - out of touch
i must have been
Stuttering.

i want.
to hold you tight
to hell with the world
they can't touch us
if we were what i wanted us to be.

So it's a song for MJ.
That I promised.
It's not quite ready.
And it's pretty damn chronic
But, yes.

Hold me tight
Through the night
Babe.