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My Double, My Brother
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The Flawed Fall
I fought to find a place where we could look around
The space between the worlds of vice and virtue
We'd draw the line to face the smiles and crooked frowns
And trace beneath to cleave what's nice from what's true.
And we're walking in chains
The mind casts its visions,
Pre-decisions to only listen in vain.
And if we're judged on regressions
Then I've the blackest of knees
For with comprehension
Comes the flawed fall begging, 'Please, please, remember to forget me.'
I Sought to find the cure for merely dancing 'round the words
The rants for certain certainties to choose.
And every time I blurred my broken looking crown you turned
And recollected images of youth.
You said, 'Fear is for failures,
You've got to stand straight and tall
And honestly tell your
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Secrets sanctioned and tell them all.
And if we're judged on regressions,
Then I've the blackest of knees
For with comprehension
Comes the flawed fall begging, 'Please, please, remember to forget me.''
The candelabra on the mantel made of bricks had drawn
The shadowed scene that played across the room.
Each figures shape grew on, each candle flame had flicked upon
The cast from carbon, incandescent truths.
And illusions are favored
When the dusk starts to fade
So we constantly labor
So as not to see the night for the day,
But if we're judged on regressions
Then I've the blackest of knees
And with comprehension
Comes the flawed fall begging, 'Please, please, remember to forget me.'
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