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visions

from scraps by daniel k morgan

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lyrics

his eyes are the kind that are wider than they have any right to be
you stare down just for long enough and you catch them
them and the quiet as death dog that is every inch shiver and bone
and though this may born sunday can be called many things...
it could never be called cold.

And his smell would leave you half dead in a stupor if you were to let it
so you let it
so it blares.
you notice the accidental brown and the territorial ripping
and the more you ignore it the more it flares

and you fall backwards hit your head hard on a millennium bridge
and as you fall no-one stares
and onto this may born sunday
you project your languid VISIONS
you offer them instead of prayer.

credits

from scraps, released July 25, 2016

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Daniel Morgan Wirral, UK

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