I have been on this lane before, I have seen the disdain and more, I have known this dark alley These dark labyrinths, The stark deserted streets, I was that lonely lark Looming high upon the street, The street of loneliness. I have been those eager eyes Sitting on the pavement All the same, yet different Drawn up towards the skies Parched for a drop of light, A recognition slight. I had wished for a companion Left out in the darkness Left without a choice or opinion. I was the street lamp, There in the corner I stood Without a form or purpose As I barely could Be of any use. I thought I had escaped, Then there is no escape I was born into it And I will be it, I am the lonely man The loneliest of all Rising after every fall, And I hear those voices, yes I can! The spirits of the street Singing a song of solace, I become the darkness I have no face I am the old, I am the new I am the one of the few
I am the estranged stranger On this lane of loneliness.
Kick stand up at eight, two lane west to set me free Throttle through the gears, now it’s just Ester and me Relax down into the machine, the breeze blowing across my face Worry and troubles disappear, my mind is
that has been, was so raven that you were hugging vanity for the deportation of death as a living; fake predicates of a genius like words falling as bucketfuls of lies, back to back coffer dams collapsing, submerging seers’ sarcophagi,
I’m running, and running far away, From all the things I committed from yesterday, I ask myself was it because of me? But how? I never loved someone with a love so deep, So, I sit here alone and depressed,