“The Swallow”

I have a swallow in my closet.

There, it has sung to me

the deepest secrets I couldn’t understand.

The answer of why I live.

So the swallow danced

and showed me the world.

There I saw blood,

there I saw pain in my soul.

I begged the swallow,

to show me something else.

So it showed me it’s feathers,

drenched in oil so black.

Oil made from the crushed dreams

we all try to forget.

The weight of the truth

pushed me to it’s eyes,

When the swallow blinked

I fell a tear with surprise.

When it blinked again

I fell to my knees.

And when it blinked again

i fell it’s wings around my tears

And maybe it was because I felt safe,

or maybe because I wasn’t;

that I let the swallow grab me.

It grabbed my nightmares and locked them in a closet.

And for a short time,

while I saw the world beneath my feet,

I felt like nothing could touch me,

no problems I could reach.



You saved my soul

last night when we talked.

You took med down

from the hanging rope.

Your hand touched my heart

I felt like flying high,

my dark past took me down

and I slowly sank.

Why couldn’t you do

like you did once before

grab my heart with your light soul

and pull me out of this rotting sand.

I feel like a fool

to have trusted you at all

you’re like the other monsters

I never let go.

And so I lay down on my bed,

my body full of pills.

I wonder when they’ll start

and this sad song will end.

“When Momma’s Got Her Gun”

Oh, I dreamt about you

when last night was through,

you wore your white shirt.

I saw it slip through;

through my fingers

through my smiles.

I kissed you

you laughed,

but then momma got her gun.

Oh she kicked and she pulled,

dragged you across the floor with her sharp nail tools.

So mad she screamed,

and I joined as she bloodied the scene.

Momma’s got her gun,


momma’s get her gun.

There’s no where to hide now.

cause momma’s got her gun.

We ran away,

in search of songs to play.

And run between the highways,

formed as knives in you crying pain.

But momma found out,

about the tears you left

so she followed,

so she saw.

And so,

Momma’s got her gun.


“The Whores Behind The Church”

They took me behind my mind,

touched my hands drenched in lies.

And I never felt so good,

like God always should.

But I guess the whores behind the church know best,

of what is good.

But I fight,

because I know what is true.

No way they love me,

don’t know why they should.

They get paid,

a soul per hour, a smile for a kiss.

The whores behind the church give the best

of what the most I miss.




“Dirty Little Girl”

Well I guess I knew what she would be like in bed,

after all that stuff we’ve done in hotels.

But I never saw what’s beneath her cloak

when I found out she was my dirty little girl.

She’s just 16 years and yet she’s on fire.

She always makes me feel like her body’s on fire.

So I grab her down,

make her scream,

make her long for some air.

My dirty…

My dirty little girl.

“Dancing With Shadows”

Mona Lisas getting older,

her smile has faded like notes

lost through seas of poison.

Nobody could see the knife

moving through the air, a fast shot.

now she’ll die,

now she’ll dance

with the shadows of the knife, again.

Mona Lisa dances,

dances with shadows.

Songs she knows,

moves she shows.

To the men removing their clothes.

Now she dances,

oh how she dances.

But death made a move on the board.

The knife cut it’s way

through Monas smile,

through her lust of men

and lust for life.

Her laughter stopped and she saw,

her soul dance,

dance with shadows,

with the shadows of the club.

Mona Lisa dances,

dances with shadows.

The men they saw,

run cause they know.

The police will take them away,

now they run,

oh how they run.

And Mona Lisa’s cold,

And Mona Lisa’s cold.