permanent grin

no colours now remain for proud display
dark fire has come to overwhelm the bright
the ones who most lack vision proclaim sight

there is some sort of honour on this day
for those who claim the standard as of right
no colours now remain for proud display

who makes the leather must the live skin flay
and this must happen in the day's despite
but not as we discover in deep night
no colours now remain for proud display

not enough for simple thought

there's never any time to think
about the ways that we can choose
to take ourselves right to the brink
there's never any time to think

we pause and then we take a drink
all answers are dissolved in booze
there's never any time to think
about the ways that we can choose

it will not matter win or lose
unless we can reach to the edge
to hesitate will court the blues
it will not matter win or lose

our hopes are that we'll simply cruise
until we're forced to take the pledge
it will not matter win or lose
unless we can reach to the edge

we wander past the withered sedge
and do not ask just how we came
for bird to fly it first must fledge
we wander past the withered sedge

the opening requires a wedge
and after just a simple flame
we wander past the withered sedge
and do not ask just how we came

the answer's held within the name
of that which we can't understand
our faces are immune to shame
the answer's held within the name

the whole thing's just a stupid game
the best response is to be bland
the answer's held within the name
of that which we can't understand

the standard reply's ready-canned
we aren't supposed to give it thought
not one thing happens that we planned
the standard reply's ready-canned

we know that we ought to demand
that we receive just what we bought
the standard reply's ready canned
we aren't supposed to give it thought

the gap falls between is and ought
and will just widen over time
the chances are we're told just fraught
the gap falls between is and ought

we haven't learned just what you taught
our minds are fallen far from prime
the gap falls between is and ought
and will just widen over time

the thought that we might change is crime
you must not hold it or you'll die
your name will be dragged through the slime
the thought that we might change is crime

you and i might hope to climb
till we're too small for normal eye
the thought that we might change is crime
you must not hold it or you'll die

if we might someday hope to fly
above the spaces where lives link
we could finesse the standard tie
if we might someday hope to fly

stout opponents of the easy lie
might quail to hear our glasses clink
if we might someday hope to fly
above the places where lives link

our eyes are steady we won't blink
at anything that's false or true
past any guardian we'll soon slink
our eyes are steady we won't blink

let others waste vast seas of ink
if they speak up then we will sue
our eyes are steady we won't blink
at anything that's false or true

(no subject)

If you're maybe noticing that you're older than you used to be, and are feeling sad/angry/confused/worried/frustrated that you haven't accomplished as much as you/other people in your present or past/annoyingly critical voices inside your head think you should have, and if you're maybe feeling something like "I'm not a real grownup like everyone else," and if you're maybe also feeling sad/angry/confused/worried/frustrated that your body isn't working the way it used to, and you're maybe thinking, "if that's true then how am I going to DO all those accomplishments that I/other people/voices in my head think I ought or want to do?", and maybe you're also wondering how are you going to dig out from under the accumulation of habit and procrastination and self-doubt to some sense of satisfaction in your life again, then post this same sentence in your journal.

Taken from txanne