Black boots, but no highway broads
Dopes forever loading the innocent onto transport.
Our rivers of blood have become years of darkness
How I hate black boots, jack boots, and thugs in armor
It’s my life but this still ill cult of losers has me on this rack
The man with this plan to demand your allegiance.
Your money and your life.
Your attention.
Ice shard. Black and airless. Alone. Ancient.
Light flashes, warmly inviting, only to disappear just as quickly. Leaving behind nothing but a cold, white, longing memory.
Scared. Sad. Lonely.
Impenetrable darkness in the noon sky. Friendly smile in front of a sundered heart.
The grueling gut twist of the ever-breaking, never broken, always working, truth-forsaking.
Dead dreams never answer, the young smile fades and turns away, silent.
I am alone.
Fun thing happening, I’ve been obsessed in the last 2 days with Magic by Olivia Newton John. (I keep thinking I should do a dark cover of it.) So I fired up the video and read the lyrics, really feeling the way you could flip the meaning to be more about control and power. The lyrics are just delicious. So I’m reading her Wiki page, and I see she died in 2022 after her 2nd recurrence of breast cancer. On August 8th. Today, 3 years ago. I am weirdly obsessed with an artist I originally got yelled at in 2nd grade over (because I could NOT stop singing “Let’s Get Physical” in class) on the precise anniversary of her death.
I don’t go for woo, but that’s just weird.