Fringe.

Half open and I'm still sitting.
Waiting for movement.
To tell me the clock is wrong.

Focus and try to release this color from the cage on top of you.
It's okay to let your face look that way, I have a hard time too.

Only because, no one knows what to say.
When someone lived their last day.
Only because, we need more time as always.
When someone lives their last day.

So I focus and try to relieve my brain from these thoughts a strew.
It's okay just put it up like a neon sign, signaling your rootless...

To this place. A scenic setting, disorder.
My personality here has no functionality.
In this place, where children see in numbers.
My spirituality is foreign, heretic, and exposed.

I don't breath in this painting.
I'm waiting for the moment.
For the clock to tell me it's wrong.

Only because, no one knows what to say.
When someone lived their last day.
Only because, we need more time as always.
When someone lives their last day.

In this place.

Only because, no one knows what to say.
When someone lived their last day.
Only because, we need more time as always.
When someone lives their last day.

When the lucid surrealistic feeling wears off, you can find me still staring.
At the place they call the fringe, still asking "Why, am I still here?...."

Where the carnival of souls turns and spectators watch.
Helplessly, hoping they are being heard.
Looking for a familiar reason to be here.

When the message is clear that you brought me here, I'll still be staring.
At the place they call the fringe, still asking "Why, am I still here...."

Where the carnival of souls turns and spectators watch.
Helplessly, hoping they are being heard.
But they're in a better place now.

Where the carnival of souls turns and spectators watch.
Helplessly, looking for a familiar face.
A familiar reason to be here.

Only because, no one knows what to say.
When someone lived their last day.
Only because, we need more time as always.
When someone lives their last day.

Focus and try to release this color from the cage on top of you.
It's okay to say those things today, because we're damned too.
Because we're named too.
Because we're blamed too.
Because lies inside the scenic setting made us who we are.
Because we're named too.
Because we're blamed too.
Because lies inside the scenic setting tell me where you are.

Reviews

[Gary H]

On first read I saw so much that I went back for another look, then another. There's lots of interesting thinking behind your construction of this piece. The repetitive lines particularly stand out - the first set being the same, the second with different lines added, the third at the end helping to emphasise the point you are making.
This is complicated though and I really feel that I need an explanation - like looking at a piece of modern art and almost seeing into it but not quite......

[Natalie C]

Only because, no one knows what to say.
When someone lived their last day.
Only because, we need more time as always.
When someone lives their last day.

Has to be my fav part, maybe because you repeated it a couple of times or maybe because there is so much truth which lies within those four lines.
True in the sense that do we ever know what to say when someone passes away, specially when it comes to the ones that where left behind. As for the question of time, who couldn't do with a little extra of that?
Ok maybe not me, but you know what I mean.

Nicely written, once again staying true to your style keeping it lyrical as all the rest!

[Kara Emily Krantz]

there's a lot going on here. it was definitely intriguing, but perhaps a little too long, and you could probably tighten it up, and have more impact with yours. however, some of the repetition was really well done, and i thought it worked well.

'To this place. A scenic setting, disorder.
My personality here has no functionality.
In this place, where children see in numbers.
My spirituality is foreign, heretic, and exposed. "

that was my favorite part. thanks for sending this my way :)