it was about young people

the yellow hair fallen over his face,
the green that obscured the mourning;
the blue that washed all castles away,
the white that signaled warning;

the golden path that led her there,
the red that called them to rise;
the black that nearly pulled them astray,
and last, the whites of their eyes.

a band called burning airlines

they pointed us toward falling stars,
and told us that's how we're supposed to steer;
they locked us in our rooms with police at our doors
and told us THERE'S NOTHING TO FEAR.

but now my child is dying,
and faith has never seemed so impure;
they told me to stop searching,
but i swear to god, THERE IS A CURE.

all the martyrs i once idolized
turned to sinners as soon as i looked away;
this aviary's nice, but the wires are still there;
the police grin and tell me THEY'RE HERE TO STAY.

it's chilly

surrounded by her
and the rushing of air;
the sounds try to touch us,
but the stillness is there.

i took my brain back, sorry i didn't ask first

i swear to god i'll have your eyes,
i'll seize them by force, if that's what it takes,
i want to ask them about the way they lie,
and how i could make such a horrible mistake.

i swear to god i'll tie you down,
and take them both out by hand;
and after they've watched us madly drown,
i'll see you below in the promised land.

riley's hands lying on the snare

if i was weary,
and my back bent off to a side,
and, like metal, refused to bend back —

if i was weary,
and my arms were sore and my hands blistered
from supporting those who cannot support themselves —

if i was weary,
and my eyes were red and welling
with seas that reflected the evils i was forced to witness —

would you still give me a smile?

i know you would.
i would find you in an old house,
on the bank of a lake,
and you would sing me a song and play the guitar
and i would sit and close my eyes and sway.

only in dreams

i want to be made of red and gold
i want to fly and not fall down
i want to be reborn in a circle of green eyes
i want to kill the demons that would eat the innocent children

i want the city to light up with the hope of millions
i want an angel to be born from my strength
i want this place to be made-up,
and that other one to be real.

andy

kids shouldn't have vitamin D deficiencies
or epilepsy medicine prescriptions
or dead mothers

kids should have safety
and soft knit caps
and lots and lots of love.