The falling leaves with the autumn leaves accompanied

The falling leaves that tumble from the outside inside of head
The sunburned skin I have to stare upon everyday of my life but l miss you like I said
The caustic iron bars that are mounted amongst my insane brain inane partisan regression
Must leave the curtain hooks spaced evenly l the world doesn't end obsession.

Chorus the autumn leaves Eric Clapton.

Dancing amongst the partisans of a poetic Parisian party
Held upon a roof terrace so close to the Eiffel Tower of power so smartly
Am I too naieve to think all the words at the end of a sentence should rhyme
Well just to prove it wrong this one doesn't.

Chorus the autumn leaves Eric Clapton.

You called me late one mid summer night amongst a Faustian pact that you
Felt would make you better I beg to differ it sent a  shiver tumbling through the messy who
You tapped on a tadpole embryonic back door only friends are allowed to tap and enter
Repented you better make sense you tried and tested theatrical depth delivering devil repented.


Chorus Clapton.

A better wall blast a sophisticated spasticated world in which the autumn leaves start to call
I'm witch of the craft boils babies in a pagan rigmarole
Don't ever shirk the responsibility of an atheist soldier jumping amongst foxholes
It never enters day or nights it never enters our waves goodbye souls.

Clapton

The deep dark heart.

There's a sunset awaking in my deep dark heart
A passing conversation a realm that claims grounds in the golden mining town horse driven cart
You don't know me you don't understand the believer in the caucus of my blood
But you should you fucking imbecile a throw of the first century snake eye double six sexy should.

A tribute to the fallen a swallow nesting in the throat of a cancerous tumour harboured a billion light years in my decrepit head
A lion Limph node that continues ultimate life draining cerebral existintion better off dead.


But the good Lord fuck you in the unexplainable head you're  dying past tense on the grammar
You're a reason at the end of the duck hunting season an earthquake in my mind a shiver in my tremors hammer
A few more words Viking Thor of your rundent tin on black anvil civil rights that allowed us to breath
To feel the anger the right to simplify and the correctness to be insipid to seeth.

And so I'll continue. I'll explore the fortitude of this fucking first world tree covered avenue
This fucking white rap that the entire will worn delve into the recess of the eye bruised blue
Drawing to a sketch of the crayon waxed eighties style colour me bad acapella old style
An end to the universe I can saw through the iron bars with my mind file.

It's part and parcel of a UPS van delivering a parcel from abroad to me
A mental menthol minted cigarette that only you and I can drive toward the end of the road to be
I'm done, I shone in golden rays of displays but you never ever understood you fucking wanted me to cry for your attention

But it ends here. I'll stand the tallest the giant amongst the pygimies
 A natural  a cause because the life of a stigmata hole in the hand bullshit.


And so I laugh in tides of wave like lightening in a storm so heavyily laden with a cerebral connection so frightening
I'm drawing no sketching an end to this fucking time
I feel almost like I've committed a Freudian crime
But I'll leave it here with a dire straight song in my decrepid head
Better off serving than better off dead.

The coupon.

I'm a Yorkshire man that's fucked in the head I can't control the remote control
The Dickensian tiny Tim with a disability limped like leg mind like the  new born spaticated foal
I cry everytime two men hug  I had a broken relationships with my dad
The shrink told me this that I'm better off realising this as a pose to being a grad

You ate, a minuscule observation a padding retribution that had no matter nor cell set retribution
A permenant aggression a keyboard a dented car crash realm of a contribution
And then we calm down, on a down of heather s perfect fucking testerone
horse against a wall
In a Victorian murder victims domain a Jack the Ripper life that leads to mass appall.

But at least we caught jack the fucking Ripper s caustic blood boiled sentimental flesh coated stripper
A childhood nightmare a difference between your graveyard and me
A heart attack away from the depth I'm an unsecured mind thinking of our middle eye see
It's all about our family of the the ninety eighties Cosby family And we be

And even tried out to be a fucking tape inducing drug fuelled imbecile
A fountain of life combined with a cocktail of love and vile
We can contribute us Yorkshire men against the sanitary exhale

Blood towels on the hills of a matrix period red and it's a  dead mother fucker
And yet my grandmother accepted this jazz coloured love designed a point between me and you and a lover
And where is my mother a fucking test a crayon of nursery like an infant colour set in wax
You can't dictate the crowd coverd Swan I must  contribute to the royals facts
And yet I begin to sleep to delve to dive to hold the nose like an imbecile on a drug baseball hat
Like that fucking putting perfect part of our sentimental baseball bat.

It's a crazy golf sim for the whole of the hole each and everyone of us aim for
Doesn't matter if we are aiming across the sand bunkers of life a double albatross or a hole in one galore
The hole being black as a void me an avoid of tension and anxiety
Me a country dwelling Gardner turfing up the lawn of life and contribution
To the life in the city.

There's no chorus in this son of a bitch it just continues like a fucking train on a railroad out of control
Abandon all hope this reality that my mental health is the NHS abandoned into that hole we talked about
I'm drawing it to an end I'm trying my only friend its a damn confusion in a mind that's seeking s soloution

Those lines you sent. Those lies you told. It's a cute on a coupon.

Day giver

There is a dirty spirit that inhabits the inside of my head
Better the being right? Fuck that better off dead
I'm not sure you understand the point of comprehension the low of depth the last of the lighthouse bled
The forthwith
I'm about the life and I'm about the death.
You are the day giver
You make me feel real you tease me with nerve dangled ankles
Of the resurrection of the given
Of the bald senario angel
That does not exist apart from the inside of your heads
This phycological nightmare where I crave the mask of death

And then i stared at her. A sugar candy secret, they played the ground in a floss  run on
Upon my self destruction the trivial point  the ultimate con
You never knew the answer the crossword semantic
The fork of the lightening the entirety of the thunder romantics.

And then I walked into a western bar
And they drew their weapons and I drew so far
As to kill their hides their skin their side so  bleeding sister cries
Their ass their cause their hidden dive in shadow lies.

And now relax to western cause I am the day giver
I am the absolver of your sins the principal provider the head teacher
Of the student sinner
It'd be  the greatest of what, I know the bastards will always roll the lover
So the shill will seashell shout and hide amongst the plan game and over.

The world of the devil harlequin

There is a virus of religion that's invading from a far off century
A devil that dalliances with hoof tipped feet of cinder toffee sugar spelt glee
There is no god you dancing fool. You jester, caught in a world of the harlequin
No such thing as heaven no such philosophy as a needle giving blood tests the prick of the pin.

Imagine a place without the thrust of a superior being
There's no god in your fable , no Caine or fucking Able seeing
Who the hell do you think you are that you can create a fucking god.
You can not. I swear it's just your imagination this deity you named lord

The ghost of the gone will always haunt yout cerebral cortex
It will pound on the inside of your dream like relaxed ( scrabble winning words with x )
Fathom me, equates to a world of depth of a casual free dive without breath for a thousand sucks
Like the perfect pussyfoot cat that roams amongst the ally way who doesn't give a flying fuck.

And then the jazz dance the romance of playing the wholesome heart of your vision
The scissors cutting open your soul , an incision so light yet deep it penetrates the indecision
You fuck wit traitor you're unpatriotic your a tit feeding milk craving imbecile
A rampant alternative life dragging slug sliding in sludge unable to feel.

I am anti god , I am an anti lord I am the passing of persuasion
I am the shadow the reflection
An all be it flame that flickers in the inside of your human brain
I am the binding rope of a rape victims inane insane

You're vision of heaven does not exist my traveller friend
He is a passing wind on the crescendo of a turbulent end
Just recall the cinder toffee the the sugar coated glee
Just remember the love I felt for the disillusioned the breaking of the free.

Cold heart black of skin

I'm cold of heart, black of skin. Rich as fuck and blind of birth
I am a traveller amongst the age a feature of the statues here on earth
Bald on the hairless inside of my heart, fresh as a tulip that keeps on dying
Another soul seeking retribution,  like a gunman, who killed , while lack of his soul, is crying.

Oh Trixie Annabelle I regret the hurt I caused the bleeding of the nose
The strike against your blushing cheek that made me questions obsoletes the cause
I'm in turmoil here because I made a mistake I slapped you hard I slapped you good
I understand the consequences I comprehend the bad from from the hood

So I lounge on the sofa with cramped up fingers that throb without the application of ice
The knuckles twisted inwards with the imprint of your face I suffice
And I feel a little guilt but not as much as you would expect
It's not the first time I've done this your honour, I remain the chief suspect.

Of a childhood so entwined , in a ball of disillusionment
Buried in a bridges foundation drowned in solid cement
Sofa
Lounge
Guilt
Your honour
Heart
Black
Skin
Full stop I need a drink
And another cigarette
A perfect sunrise equals a perfect sunset
I'm cold of heart
You make me real
I  tried so hard I Really did
Yet the end is near and I'm all consumed
In the web of life, in its cause, of doom.