All Watched Over Lovingly by Lenses
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6:56
All Watched Over Lovingly By Lenses
Feign Thing
Casing the zone,
3 floors and no fire escape,
2 doors and more than a few holes,
Ain't got no red tape.
Take it home!
Neighbor's got a peeper peerin at the hold,
No dog, and a fence that don't latch,
They don't bother with the bolt,
Most days she keeps her window cracked.
Take it home!
A relay lights as the hinge folds,
Like a dog at her hips, but that floor-plan is well known,
I said that floor-plan is well known.
Can I?!
Can I take you (your) home?!
Not much more than a few dull stones,
And a rusty cast-iron hanging in that shack,
Our eyes locked-in on a simple soap,
Both wondering if the othered fight back,
But you don't fight back.
You don't fight back.
You take it!
You take it!
I take it!
We take it!
I take it!
6:56
S.T.A.L.K.E.R. Haze of Baltimore
Feign Thing
Case the zone,
put everything down in those notes
what you can't take with you
write it down in your phone
scrawl it on a post
carve it into skin
drown every detail in that foam
what you can't test true
write it down in pen
right hand face down on the tome
used razor blades and a hypodermic forest strewn - flown the nest,
lightning exhumed from the LED
not quite enough blood to presume her dead
stray crits - rust stained cotton sheets, - chitin beasts
dusting graves across the windows ledge
Zoroastrians have to keep their pledge
A 100,000 lost in the wet bulb exclusion, - dully included
a spinning blades edge
her AC full of beetles made less - vegan sweat
detritus suffocate you to death,
black mold, wolf spiders, eggs.
Dislocated furniture, empty vials, change, a light mess
her world entangled with the things that I left.
A colt 45 with the hammer clean lost
bloody paper towels and a few stringent things I tossed
in a paper bag, hidden amongst the few things she actually wants
a computer, a usb interface, a microphone, artistic haunts
a selfish god doesn't want... its got
its got enough to know that when they don't look you in the eye,
your not.
Superstitions aside ghosts don't flaunt
they linger in the mind
and shes mighty fair the way she clots
anuerisms aside she don't talk
a lens splits her eye
leaded, twitching to the rhythm of her thoughts
shes in kind, the way that she can't not
a cool breeze scented by her locks
Stamped in time, a half nelson and a sharpened prop.
hand in mine, the skin of my fore-arm pulled taught.
2:42
Videos
Music for stalkers.
...
Listen to the whole dang song or get stalked.
Credits
Created by L. Feign