Halls of Glass I'll Break Tonight
Tonight I’m going to drink and break glass.
My veins are going to be clogged up
with emotions stirred by limbo.
Words of wisdom never teach me will or the way.
The rain: who cares if it floods my pedestal,
and the wind will not speak tonight to my ears.
The climate, cold, will freeze my stubborn ears.
People are transparent just like fragile pretty glass,
but all of them have archaic monastic pedestals.
Tonight I will never look up;
unless, when I cheer the clouds thundering sounds of limbo.
Yes, I’m ready to slither about my way.
The way to forgotten nights, I will go, and into limbo.
I cannot let those righteous words enter my ears,
because my shivering self, tonight, does not know that benevolent way.
My voice of rage will shatter any glass.
Good-willed men do not know that I will, tonight, stand up;
and still, they insists that a cross will protect their pedestals.
Tonight I want to and will stand on my pedestal.
I will take my love into a limbo,
which seems like that’s the only way up.
Her scratchy loud controlled voice is music to my ears.
Tonight I’ll fit into her like a sharpened glass,
and she will show me the way.
I’ll drive down the death, dark, self-destructing way.
I’ll plow through the front door of the holy pedestal,
and shatter the murals to make streets of jagged glass.
Spreading the word and reaping havoc from limbo.
No one will hear, not one scream, with those maladjusted ears;
soon, nothing will rise up.
In the morning, through the jagged glass, I will rise up.
I’ll have forgotten the slithering nightly way,
and I’ll play Hendrix to redress my ears.
Vibrations throughout my walls, this astroman, will be my pedestal.
I’ll drive the blackness back to limbo;
but still, I’ll keep my favorite shot glass.
Tonight, halls of glass I will break and throw up.
To limbo, my self will tend to go that way,
but, before I get to my pedestal, I’ll donate my love one ear.
© 2020 Bazooka Teaches