The Pretty Little Things

The pretty little things
with their little wings
sing to me

of Heaven's nectar,
and the spectre's splendor
forever.  Amen.


Shiny beings
and plastic things
can't keep me

safe from my self,
and the hell
I'm dedicated to.




Burrow in my heart
with your teeth and claws.
I don't mind.

It's kind of nice
to be desired
every once in a while.


Tiny rings
and plastic beings
call to me,

"Distraction." 
"Distraction."
"Distraction."
"Distraction."






We're all pretty little things
with our magazines and dreams
of world peace.

Passing time
in an infinite expanse
of lies.


We're all exactly
where we want to be
(believe me),

rather than Heaven,
malcontent,
with every goal met.




Gaping hearts
and open mouths
lend routes

of proposed action
to allow some
trifle satisfaction.


The Ahab in me
wants no small
fish in the sea.

I'll enjoy the hunt
of searching for
the right cunt.





The pretty little things
with their little wings
sing to me

of Heaven's nectar,
and the spectre's splendor
forever.  Amen.


We're all pretty little things
with our magazines and dreams
of world peace.

Passing time
in an infinite expanse
of lies.


We're all exactly
where we want to be
(believe me),

rather than Heaven,
malcontent,
with every goal met.


We're all pretty little things
with our magazines and dreams
of world peace.

Pretty Little Things,
with your little wings,
sing to me.





"Distraction."