| The words flow Decisions made Ideas mine But the inspiration not Dreams of hangers-on Dreams of getting well Spells of Esmarelda Emeralds foretold Splinters in the eye Sentimentally made Bones that never rest Where we going to? It was never up to me And yet I pushed until it broke I love the open road And all that it suggests We are wagon dust Weeds and infidelities Always swore our love Never questioned why In a wooden house Immovable and silent And drinking strawberry wine Forever lost in town And thru those sleeping streets Night bound and heavy Wheels in a spoke Still spoken foreign sound Now my gaits are high My friends even higher Forgotten in my mind But the sighs still linger Climb the blue skies I�m jealous of you birds Was the only truth In a world full of words In a prairie sound In a friend called near The heart is pointed down But my spirit pointed up |
| His voice was siren Of Greek mythology I pause with my pen I begin to defend Every action taken Every moment sealed When i was quick It coursed thru open veins The will to live The urgency to move Behind a paneled door Sealed and cherry stained I played my guitar And lived those lonesome notes Like a dog that�s down In a corner just aside Waiting to be called Waiting to be yours Ghosts of all my shame Without purpose or will I often speak of you But the you was always me Cause when I speak of me It�s me I ask of you So let there be no truth Just trickery and rhymes Time the only thing Waiting till his death I hope for resolution Pray one defined moment Pause without restraint Barren without child A child is who I was A child is who I�ll die A child is who I�ll die Soot in my hair And stars in my hands Soot in my hair And stars in my hands Soot in my hair And stars in my hands ~Billy Corgan |
| Soot and Stars |