Beautiful Music
• Written by QM
Some nights I shrank in my
teenage angst, see I hate the
way I cannot state that which
aches me as of late. But I got
an ipod and my god, all night
volume at its height, why not?
Why stop at the song, long-form
in the album, beautiful music,
will the music box help him? Tell
him how to get out of mental hell
he's held in, while he's chilling.
Meanwhile this shit goes to my head,
ouija for needy ghosts of the dead,
and whatever they said, and the lives
they led, the tears and fears that plague
them as they lay in bed, spread head to toe
in an earthly suite, we weep for sleep that deep
keep in fleet of that which will greet, yet these
reminders, finders, mind grinding, side winding roads
hold troubles untold for those so bold as visitation
of elder nations of memory, violating sensory means
of how the seen seems, see, reality will be as far off
as magic and beans, and tragically the magic will be
witchcraft which we see behind eye three. Hope my
eyelid hid my grid of evil actions, factions of the soul
which cause traction in the mind. Say You gotta close that
door. So beautiful music, won't play anymore.
Feedback & Comments
About the Artist
QM
Member since February 10 2015