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Lucy

Jac Beth ☾ on September 24, 2011 08:57

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    lucy's lucid dreams of lilac lilies/ are retold by her bald "shrink"/ thinking there's something deeply wrong/ with a sugar brained state. she prefers her own world of a mind/to his insulting offensive mediocrity...he plays a shadow like a monochrome mime/he didn't speak one word. It is hardly the lighthearted comedy he retells it to be/every night at his powder blue table/eating his slaughtered chicken roast on his shining china plate/ feeding off his wife's adoring eyes as they dilate at the confidence of his brash voice, and the grease and wealth on his face./ his boy wants to be just like him, his daughter wants to marry a man just like him, adoration of the dream.../chorus: oh, oh lucy x3, don't you believe in me?./ the next morning he listens to the most wonderful tale/ rows of sickly strong jasmine down a path to so called divinity and company/ only to be tricked and beaten and nearly bled to death/ as if reflecting a world within a world /truth wrapped up in a lie/but she knows.... she knows he laughed himself to sleep last night/the fact he is a paid man for hearing her "trouble".../robbing a family and promising she shall be healed/ a fucking messiah of the dead already, he is the dead already/except, lucy she's alive.../ (chorus)/ (outro thingo)

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