[Nine]

Originally Posted by Agonofinis

Here is one that has no music yet, but is called The Red Pumps and The Train


I have no direction
This thing, is going backwards from
Where I came from so long ago and I…


Crawling round on my hands
Trying to regret my past and I
Don’t see the point in it

It really had the best tunes

Taking things down in threes
Pickup trucks picking up nothing but trees
And my hands are cold in the breeze

Flowing down the station line
Rusting supports and guttural rhymes
And where words take time

They sometimes come out wro-

The call, the shout, the man
The something we can’t plan
The fright, the shriek, the rain
The red pumps and the train

This has long been coming
Strumming and tripping off my
Plated tongue
Armour for my times
And acid for our drum

Something to ease it in
Something to make it paper-
Things don’t turn out so interesting
Anyway
Anyway
Anyway

The call, the shout, the man
The something we can’t plan
The fright, the shriek, the rain
The red pumps and the train

I have no direction
This things going backwards from
Where it came from, I’m wrong

I feed my bear, it gets stroked
And underneath its silver coat
lies

fin

You are excellent.