Stay Wild

You do know how I enjoy the wild. I’m all about it, but the entire time we face to face, I’m looking to see if you’re one color; if you’re talking to me and you’ve got a different face for the situations we find ourselves in, then I can only tell you that I won’t try to keep with that. As soon as I see you acting brand new and showing me different cuts I’m going to have to tell you I’m not with it. Figure out who you are, and be that with me. You want to be royalty, then you know how to act.


I step back and listen because I think that you coming into yourself is the most magical thing I could ever hope to witness. It’s a dream, an ephemeral taste, a satisfaction that lingers with only a glow. Step down into that shadow light, tear into the cosmic night with a boundless high; squelching and more fucking howls; desire palms and digits like the maws of wolves to grip you by the throat and pour the vigour of ‘oh fuck-gasp, fuck’ down into your soul.

I bet that would wake you the fuck up, and keep you chasing lightning bugs on your back-snap, does this have your attention?

I can’t take you in the shower with me because you’ll get wet–can you get wet if you’re already wet?

Pull the Trigger Again

Within its’ walls the balance of the world contained: struggle, vigour, magic, and¬†ūüĒ•ūüĆä– casting all kinds of spells and garments across the room; I like the way you get down. Is there any time to breathe? If you come up for air, I might have to, I might have to, Bite your lip the way I do. Swaying in the night feeling your lip pulse, wondering if I’m a sweeterman as I commit you to memory

I kinda like you, girl, really wanna feel you,
I wanna feel you for real
We can do what you like. I promise then, I’ll be true.
I say I’m just an artist, she tell me that’s a fucking lie.
DaVinci-esque, everything is a dance, baby, if you’ve got this high.
Degas, the star honey, you’re my ballerina.
Do I make you want to dance real slow?
I got this money, baby. I want to spend it on you.
I got this Sunday, baby. I want to spend it with you
I got this money, honey. Melrose is more than a name.
I got these visions lady, when can I see you again?

I wanna tell you everything, but everything just seems dumb
If I came up with a million dollar idea I wouldn’t even spend,
I got change like that, since none of it’s real.

Hard when I’m coming from a day dream,
I really like when you’re speaking that language,
That tongue got me swerving all angles,
Angel do you take me a fool?
Catch me banging you on the bathroom floor, the counter, the sofa, throw it in the shower, get it on camera
Stoic got me all discipline of assent,
Let me see who you are, what you represent,
Let me put you to the test;
Figure of speech!
And if it don’t serve then I got to put it down,
Put it down like a vice,
But I still got the grip;
Yeah I had too many last couple of nights
I may say fuck it, pull up, pull up on it, and put it down like this my last,
Touchstone cliche to say; Robin squeezed it out of the poets!
And I’m just here in my own moment
I’m here in my moment,
I got everything, decisions I’ve made,
I own it
I own it
Hands all on it
Yeah I got the grip
Drawing you like a well,
For water, for sweets
It’s not that deep, you’re right
But that’s not how I see it

For the first time I’m alive at your altar
Not sure of my verse, but it’ll
Drip from my mouth like honey

I Might Just Paint You A Masterpiece

I want that Degas just for her.
I know how she likes it on the wall.
Dirty talk, she calls it a form of art;
Who am I to disagree, the way I paint the fucking scene,
Original no forgeries
High-value art, I am the king,
But I don’t accept a¬†crown – That pomp just not for me
They say I am a mountebank, I say this life I live ain’t free
but it can’t be crime the way she gives it to me

There would be times she washed the dishes like she was washing a new born child. It honestly drove me crazy, I just wanted to do them for her, with all my vigor; I couldn’t waste time – But I get it now. I find myself holding a dish with the water running slow, my hands in control, and smiling. I know I shouldn’t but I ask anyway, was this enough? Did I do it enough, did I speak the names that mattered as often as I would like to now?

I could summon the rain, The Great Wave off Kanagawa,
Don’t your life just feel the same,
The way you wake up and smell the Self Portrait of A Drowned Man
Talkin’ craft is something I do fast
Breakin’ the Bread like it’s my Last,
Got it spread Vitruvian Man
Stepping out the Memory of the Garden at Etten,
I more miss Eden РI snuck out while she was sleeping
Is it bad that I still sleep easy?
Close my eyes and hear The Scream
Bought this spot with my Angel in Green,
She steps in the room looking like the Mona Lisa
Future so bright, priceless as a Starry Night
Now let The Three Musicians play it nice and slow
Pour the drinks like it’s Hemingway’s last call
And tell me all about how you feel art

How ¬†could anyone blame her? All she wanted was to connect with something, all she wanted was to feel; And I don’t blame her – All these nerves, all this¬†flesh, and god damn what use is it all if you’re not arrested by the tides and moon to the point that you’re covered in sand as the water washes over you; Listening to it all crash like clockwork ebb and flow.

It took me a bit to slow down and simply live these moments, but I’m glad I did