she talks of her mother and father
fucking her sister and brothers
an orgy of arguments
and bed time stories
she says that we are all inbred.
i don't think we are
but she looks so good in the evening light
leaning against my car at the viewpoint
up above Old Harry's Rocks
the sea battering away below
i'm only half listening anyway
so she can talk.
the light on the hills
touching everything so majestically
laying like a blanket of gold leaf
on a sleeping king
she could talk of war like a friend
walking beside her at
her toughest times
or talk of murder like a guardian
watching over her since the beginning
i'd still only lend half an ear.
thinking of that light
rebounding off every inch of the scenery before me
and still finding it's way to a single point
behind each of my eyes
she could talk of past lovers
great romantics
men so much better than i
and i'd still fade out her sweet tones
turn them away and let them be swallowed
by the sound of wind whistling
and birds in the trees
the faint and gentle roar of waves
and the voice that recites it's comforting monologue
passed from my mind to my shoulders
to my arms and hands and fingers
and kept there until they release it.

love is a dog from hell.

not bad, i like the "orgy of arguments" line
Quote by NGD1313
Well I don't know about solos but how about that Smoke on the Water riff. It's like...impossible.


I'm Jake. I'm a musician, philosopher, and exhibitionist.
haha then why not change it?
this is alright seems well thought out and worded
Quote by xoxbradxox
haha then why not change it?
this is alright seems well thought out and worded

Because that's where it lives

love is a dog from hell.

Well I didn't like that line. It reeked of wanting to be cooler than it was.

I felt this jumped around too much. I didn't think that some of the ideas (those in the middle section) were tied in enough to a central theme, message or meaning. It seemed to go from one thing to the next, and the images and ideas presented often overlapped (which is even truer considering your general lack of punctuation anyway).

I don't know. I think the last four lines were great but the set up was not a strong enough stem for it to flower.

Or some other crappy metaphor for writing.

It still snapped and crackled in places though, men so much better than i was sweet with it's honesty, and faint and gentle roar of waves showing a good eye for imagery in three dimensions, not just a painted picture, and the flow was the usual highly colloquial self.

Still, the top of the middle part too often flirted with fluffy stuff that did not present itself in a way that contributed to the ending.

I have one in my sig, called Mighty Fine Shinding, if you could.